Since the new ‘mate has a very nice selection of much better kitchen equipment, I’ve been going through my stuff and donating the duplicates to Goodwill.

While going through a drawer I found this knife.  I have never used this knife.  I had it because it was my grandmother’s.  After my grandmother died, my step-mother, though she had no business doing so, gave each of the children what she thought we would like out of my grandmother’s possessions.  I use my grandmother’s silverware daily.  I have a nice set of bowls.  I have some jewelry.  I also had this knife.  Though I never used it, I didn’t want to get rid of it because it was my grandmother’s.

However, as this is a transitional period in my life and purging of unnecessary crap is always good.  I pulled this knife out of the drawer.  The Viking was amazed at the curve of the blade, which has clearly been sharpened over the course of many, many years.  I was amazed by what I saw on the handle.

There it is, clear as day, “DEXTER” in the wood handle.  What the fuck?  It’s a damn vicious-looking knife and it’s a Dexter.

Of course Dexter Morgan would never be so stupid as to put his name on one of his kill tools.  His father certainly would have made it clear that that was not part of the code.

I feel like I have to keep Dexter’s knife, though I won’t use it for fear it can be linked to a crime.

I swear.  True story.