The life of a children’s book author is not always what it’s cracked up to be. Yeah, I guess the fame and fortune are pretty good perks. I don’t know firsthand, since I haven’t achieved those milestones yet. But you really have to watch your step, so to speak. It seems that any hooligan can write novels with seedy plots containing lots of gratuitous naughtiness. But to be a writer of stories for children, one must have a clean record and keep the shenanigans to a minimum. Oversharing personal drama on social media is strictly Off Menu, and the follies of youth must be left in the shadows of the past. And there are some things which must never be mentioned, ever … ever again.

Like that time I knifed the cop.

There were a number of extenuating circumstances surrounding the incident, which I’ll outline here. It all started out innocently enough, but before 8am there was bloodshed. In fairness to myself, he is not actually a law enforcement officer … yet, but he is studying to that end. So we’ll refer to him as Cadet W.

Most of you know that I supervise a large crew of boat builders at Jarrett Bay Boatworks for my day job. Obviously my after-hours superhero work is writing books.

Back to the story.

For the record, it was an accident. As it happens, Cadet W works under my supervision. He actually seems like a pretty decent young fellow. I don’t recall ever wanting to stab anyone, but if I had ever considered it, he certainly wasn’t on the list. There is just something to being in the wrong place at the right time.

It all began when I was showing him how to set up the multi-tool for an odd project. The sanding triangles were still in shrink-wrap, so I pulled out my trusty razor box cutter and slit the package. I had just replaced the blade, so it was ready for anything. And … that was it. Until I bumped the multi-tool off the work bench.

I’ve never considered myself to have fast reflexes, but I instinctively caught that tool before it had cleared the bench top. I caught it with the hand in which I was holding the razor knife. Unfortunately, my reaction wasn’t the only reflexive move. Cadet W reached for the tool just as fast as I did. Only, he caught the end of the blade in his fingertip.

Interestingly, his reflexes were lightning fast both ways, and that was my first clue.

“Did you get poked by the blade?” I blurted as I realized what must have taken place.

“It’s fine,” he responded. Which is a male term that interprets to, Yes! And I’m just as surprised as you are!

“Is it okay?” I asked concerned. Then, seeing the blood welling, I knew that was a dumb question.

As it turned out, the wound was almost imperceptible once the bleeding stopped. Razor cuts tend to bleed a lot at first. The end result is Cadet W has no lasting damage. Except maybe from the hazing he received from the rest of the crew. Boat building is not for the faint of heart. I suppose law enforcement isn’t either. So, maybe, by pure accident, I enhanced his training and helped hone his skills.

It’s sure a good thing I wasn’t opening that package with a sword!