That and you'd be surprised at how many grade 10 students could make something like that in the shop welding class.
I passed my wood work class by making about 10 pair of nunchakas and spent my metal class making shurikens. The rest of the time I was probably smoking spliffs and playing pool.
I made my Mom a cutting board. It had four short legs on it, but one of them was a liitle shorter than the others making it wobbly.
The first time she used it the thing tilted and she all but cut her thumb off trying to de-bone a chicken.
She began screaming for my Dad to come and help stop the bleeding but by the time he got to the kitchen there was so much blood on the floor that he slipped, hit his head on the corner of the stove, and collapsed onto the floor unconscious.
One of our neighbors, probably thinking that my Dad was drinking again, called the Police because I heard sirens in the distance and they sounded as if they were getting closer.
When the first Police Officer arrived, he rushed into the house with his gun drawn, since he had been here before, and headed down the hallway toward the kitchen. Like Dad, as he stepped into the kitchen he slipped on the bloody floor accidentally discharging his gun as he landed. The bullet struck my younger Sister in the right leg.
What a mess. There was my Mom, sitting in the corner holding her thumb and white as a sheet from all the blood loss. My Dad was lying unconscious on the floor with the Patrolman trying to put a pair of handcuffs on him, and my sister was over by the refrigerator holding her leg and crying.
A couple of weeks later, after Mom and my Sister had been released from the hospital, my Dad, bandaged head and all, drove down to my school, walked into Vo-Tech building and promtly shot my shop teacher.
I still have that old blood-stained cutting board somewhere. :wink:
