Tate Scissorhands

What do you buy the little brother when he's jealous, frustrated and openly disgruntled about his brother getting a dirt bike while he continues to ride the foot-powered bicycle? ...Exactly...a pocket knife.

I'll give it to Chad, he's absolutely terrific about teaching the boys to become little men and giving them experiences that will provide lifelong memories of being a boy. (If it were up to me, there would have been no dirt bike, no skateboard, no ramps or anything else that could pose a threat...but I'm a mom.)

So...Tate got a Swiss Army pocket knife. He was so jazzed. I saw him on the back porch "whittling" a stick and heard him say about the many functions of his knife, "What DOESN'T this knife do?!" It wasn't long before he came in for a bandaid for a small "mishap."

Ten minutes later, a second request for a bandaid... then a third...then a papertowel to clean off dripping blood and a fourth band-aid. The next afternoon he came in crying, holding his thumb, blood splatters on his shirt, asking for another bandaid. This cut was a little more intense than the first 4. No need for stitches but definitely a step up from the petty cuts the day before.

Through his tears he agreed we may need to put up the pocket knife for a while -- at least until we can sit down and show him (AGAIN) the proper way to cut up stuff. :)

This is a picture of him before school, sporting 4 of the 5 bandaids he went to bed with.

Reason #245 he can't have a dirt bike right now...