Boy. Was I wrong.
It was instant, abiding, and pure love.
The way these knives slice into a tomato makes me swoon.
I feel like a Top Chef when I dice an onion.
My knees go weak when I know I'll be taking one out of its sheeth, its blade flashing as it pierces the skin of a potato.
Like all relationships, sometimes we start taking each other for granted. At Christmastime, I took a knife out of my mother-in-law's drawer, and it was so old and dull it kept slipping on whatever it was I was trying to cut. It wanted a piece of me, but I showed it who was in charge. It wasn't pretty, and I have no desire in pursuing that relationship. Mother-in-law is getting a couple of new, sharp knives for Christmas this year.
When I came home, I whispered sweet nothings to my Wusthofs and promised a good session with the sharpening steel. When my knives are happy, I'm happy.