Where's my knife?

Is that my knife?

It goes "schiiiiink!"

It is a mystery knife!

No, that's not my knife!



This, by the way, is all very funny if you've read Terry Pratchett's latest novel, Thud!. And I suppose that will be approximately one of you, so never mind and I'll tell you the story. My mom found an old pocket knife between the cushions of one of the chairs at grandma's house. According to her, it didn't belong to grandpa, and just about everyone who's ever been in that house in the last five years has been questioned. It doesn't belong to Chris. It doesn't belong to my cousin Jon. It doesn't even belong to Funundrum's Southern Hemisphere correspondent, Craig.

So the question is begged: exactly how long has this knife been in the chair? Could it be from Crazy Great-Uncle Johnny, who put on gardening gloves to touch his dog that had to live in the car when he visited with his wife Maxine? On second thought, the garden-glove guy could have been Crazy Great-Uncle Van, who visited with his wife Jerine. Neither one of them was actually crazy, but to a six-year-old who couldn't understand why they would keep their dog in the car in the driveway and put on gloves to touch it, they might as well have been nuts.

Anyway, if this resembles a knife you once had before visiting my grandma's house, or if this resembles a knife that you'd like to give a good home, contact Funundrum immediately.

Disclaimer: the knife is kind of old and from what I understand, rather crappy.