A cut above the rest

There is an age old expression, "a cut above the rest", which typically refers to something being just a little bit better than its comparison. The derivation is unclear, but if I had to guess, I'd say that the origin may lie somewhere behind the counter of a butcher's shop. As you can see then, one would prefer to be a cut above the rest, except perhaps, in the case of the story I am about to tell you.

Have you ever had a package delivered to your door, and you just couldn't wait to open it up to see what was inside? Maybe it was something you ordered or perhaps, just a surprise. In either case, I am sure that you can imagine the excitement of opening up the package for that initial glimpse.

Well, before starting my "formal" education, I had a few years at home with my younger brothers, in our own "playgroup" with Mom as our fearless leader. One morning, while she was on the phone, I remember the postman delivering one of those brown paper packages with the twine wrapped around it, and I just couldn't wait to see what was inside. Naturally, I was able to convince my brothers that we shouldn't disturb Mom while she was on the phone, but too, we should go ahead and open the box. However, instead of grabbing a more conventional means of cutting the twine, like a pair of scissors, I opted for the sharpest thing in the drawer, a carving knife. It seemed like a reasonable option, at least for a 4 year old, but rather than cutting through the twine in a downward fashion, I slipped the knife below the twine, and started "sawing" on it while pulling up. Bad idea. Before I knew it, I had cut through the twine and continued right on up into my forehead. I can only imagine the look on my mother's face when she saw me hold a knife and blood pouring from my forehead. My mother, of course, didn't panic and grabbed a dish towel and applied pressure, until she could coordinate with my father to arrange for proper treatment. This wasn't the first, nor was it the last time my father had to exercise his surgical skills on me.

To this day, I have no idea what was in the box, but I still enjoy the suspense of opening one up when it arrives at the door. I did learn several lessons though, as a result of this little mishap. "Brown paper packages tied up with string" are still a few of my favorite things, carving knives probably ought to used only on the Thanksgiving turkey, and to have dealt with these sorts of things, my parents clearly were and still are, a cut above the rest!