Cutting it

Today I was in the kitchen cutting up an apple for NT. The Honey was loading the dishwasher but had stepped away for a minute, leaving it open. NT started saying his favorite new phrase, "cutting it, cutting it, cutting it, mama." Without looking at him I said, "Yeah NT, I am cutting your apple." He kept at it, practically chanting. "Cutting it! Cut it!" I turned to give him his apple bits and there he was. He had two steak knives precariously pinched between the knuckles of his right hand, waving it in the air above his head. In his left hand he was gripping a paring knife. He was so happy just marching around the kitchen with his deadly dishwasher contraband. I don't know what is more remarkable, the way this kid puts himself into harms way, or that he hasn't been to the emergency room yet (knock on wood).