Fire is Dangerous Mommy

This past weekend the mom of one of Molly's friends called to ask if she could go to a local hibachi restaurant. She wanted to know if Molly had overcome her past traumas. Sounds like a crazy question but it's not.

When Molly was 3 years old we took her to this very same restaurant and thought she'd love it. So much fun with the Onion Tower Volcano and the knife flipping. Well Molly did not see it that way. She sat there scowling as the chef pulled out every trick in the book to entertain us. Of course, six month old Liam squealed in delight at everything. To be honest though at six months a napping dog is on par with a July 4th fireworks show in terms of entertainment value so his review should be discounted. I myself thought it was tons of fun and couldn't understand Molly's obvious disdain. After the spectacular onion tower being set ablaze to resemble a volcano it all became apparent when I was sternly told by this three year old, "Fire is dangerous Mommy. And you shouldn't play with knives." Who could argue with that logic?

Flash forward three years and we decide to give it another go. We have a long discussion about fire and knives being dangerous but that some adults spend years learning and practicing how to do tricks to entertain people and this is their job. Molly gets it and is very excited as we sit down to our table. Out comes our chef with the rolling butcher block of food and razor sharp knife assortment. The cooktop is put on to heat and the chef starts sharpening his knives. If you have ever been to a hibachi restraurant you can picture the knives as he starts to clang them on the cook top and flip them in the air only to miraculously catch these juggling implements moments before hitting the now scalding cooktop. All is going well. Molly is entranced watching the flying knives when one blindingly sharp knife ever so quickly looks as if it gently brushes the chef's face. It all happened so quick. The chef collects all the knives and just stands there kind of looking at us. Only seconds go by but it seems like forever. We hear it first. The sizzle. Then another and another. As the chef reaches up to his face the blood has finally risen to the surface of the 6 inch gash from the corner of his eye to the edge of his chin. The sizzles are the blood drops hitting the burning hot cooktop. In shock we stare as the chef politely excuses himself and runs into the back, his face as white as a ghost and pouring out blood.

Apparently Molly had it right all along - you really shouldn't play with knives.