Aunt Debbie is a kitchen virtuoso. She knows no fear in the face of a new recipe. She's cooked for the masses since she was but a girl, being the oldest of 5 sisters and Mommy's helper.



She is a hard worker, and can often be found doing chores about the house. Her energy seems endless and it can be tiring just to watch her work. That being said, Debbie finds herself surrounded with seeming innocuous instruments...innocuous instruments that become dangerous in her hands. Point in fact, her poor head has met both the blades of a ceiling fan and the points of a barbed wire fence.

She prepared a picnic for us last Saturday. She made a pressed sandwich and reached for a long serrated knife when the time came to dig in. Miles made a smart comment about the length of the knife, and Debbie indicated that Brenda usually doesn't let her handle the knives.

She, Debbie that is, laughed good-naturedly as Brenda specified, "Actually, it's mainly the utility knives that we don't let Debbie handle."

Miles, perplexed, and most likely unfamiliar with the many Debbie-injuries sustained over the house (though he should have used deductive reasoning as he has seen the riches of their band-aide stash) and at the hand of ordinary objects, inquired, "What's the difference between a butcher knife and a utility knife?"

Debbie replied immediately, "About five stitches."