A Knife and a Boy

I got a call from Principal Mitchell the other day. "You may not know this, but Matthew brought a knife to school today."
OK. First meeting with a principal with my first child who hasn't even made it through his first half of kindergarten yet.
Mr. Mitchell: Matt, why did you bring the knife to school?
Me: (silently praying for a reasonable answer)
Matt: I wanted to show my friends.
Mr. Mitchell: What were you going to do with it when you showed your friends?
Me: (still in fervent prayer)
Matt: I don't know, cut weeds.
Me: (whoa, good answer, son!)

And so what followed was a little explaining about why we don't bring knives to school, how they can hurt, ladeda....Whatever happened to those good ol' days when you could bring a 12 inch knife to school for Show-n-Tell, pull a bullet out of your pocket on the playground, or your dad could drop you off at school with an unloaded gun on his back windshield rack?
Too many people have just ruined the fun for the rest of us, I suppose.
But, it's OK...Matt can't be trusted with a knife or even running with a pencil in his hand. (I'm just overprotective about that kind of stuff...blame the local news).
I blaimed Sam for the incident at first. After all, Matt said he found the knife out by dad's truck. Then he showed me where by dad's truck.
Yea, it was my fault. I used the knife to cut string to hang Christmas decorations outside and forgot to put it away.
Bad Mom.
Hopefully, Matt and I have both learned our lessons. But, somehow with three boys I don't think this will be my last encounter with Mr. Mitchell.