They grow up so fast

McBeth.

A family of knives once lived on the pleasant side of town. Mother knife had her child's tip corked at a very early age, as all the other mothers had done with their own offspring, to keep the wee lad safe. After all , the world was rife with fearsom dangers: pointy toothpicks ready at a second's notice to plunge into an eye; rusty nails coated with disease begging to implant themselves into the freshest barest foot. Mother knife couldn't bear the idea that her child, unaware of his own potential, may inadvertently bring harm to himself.

One evening, after dinner had been cleared from the table and the boy had been given his sink bath, Mother attended to his bedtime needs, lovingly wrapping him into his sheath.

While she dried him the boy looked up into his mother's eyes, studying their shine. He did love her so -- She was greater to him than Venus rising from that goofy shell. Nobody was as luminescent, as brilliant, as sharp-witted as his mother. And nobody loved him as much as she did.

"Momma, can I ask you something?"

"Yes, of course", his mother replied as she adjusted the last tie on the bow she'd wrapped around his waist.

"Um.. well, first you have to promise to not get mad."

Mother knife laughed warmly, "of course I won't be mad darling, you can ask me ANYTHING".

"Well, um, all..", he stammered and fidgeted. "All my friends are starting to make fun of me. They're calling me baby-slingblade. But I'm NOT a baby! So ummm, what I want to know is umm ... can I get my cork removed?"