I was reminded of that episode the other day. N's dad was talking to me, but I only caught the first part of the conversation because the back of a blond head kept popping up and down behind the dad's head. I tried to focus, but then I caught the glint of metal. I looked more closely at N. and saw that he was trying to pop his brother's helium-filled birthday balloon with a long kitchen knife. And it wasn't the bread knife, it was the long, pointy one. Yeah, that one. I started laughing and couldn't stop (heck, he's not my kid). Seeing this generally happy, sweet boy jump up and down with a large knife trying to pop his brother's balloon while I had his dad's attention really tickled me. (In case you don't know I'm not a monster, N. is 11 and is an accomplished equestrian with excellent balance and motor skills. I wasn't worried.)
(When I don't draw legs that means we're sitting. I am a bit artistically challenged.)
Nick never did pop the balloon, though. Or maim himself. So the moral of this story is don't run with coatracks or jump with knives unless you are athletic and my mom isn't there. You're welcome.