Whetstone

A few days ago I caught William in the kitchen with a big rock in one hand and a butter knife in the other.

“I’m going to sharpen this knife on the stone,” he explained.

Well, no dice, kiddo.  I told him he needs a special kind of stone to sharpen knives.  The one he found in the backyard would just scratch the butter knife up.

“Well, I could just pretend to sharpen it.”

Sorry again — I didn’t want him to carry the knife off and lose it (it’s a dull knife, but he would lose it, trust me).

I suggested he find a toy knife or sword and pretend to sharpen it.  He reluctantly agreed and shuffled off to his room.

Later, he came back into the kitchen with an even larger rock (“I washed it with soap in the bathroom, Mom”) and a big plastic toy lightsaber.  He then put the rock on the kitchen table and did this:

He waved the lightsaber in the air above the rock, without touching it.  (That’s the rock there on the table.  It looks like a potato, but it’s a rock.)

Shouldn’t you slide the rock back and forth along the blade? I asked.

“No, Mom,” explained William.  “It’s a lightsaber.  Lightsabers would just go right through the rock!”

Well, why didn’t I think of that?

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