The good thing about having knives is that they can protect you from an intruder. The bad thing about having knives is that the intruder may beat you to them.

Rod sat straight up in bed. This was the second night in a row he had been awakened by the distinctive sound of his high carbon stainless steel Ginsu knives scraping against their sharpener.

Last night when he went to the kitchen to investigate, he found all of the 10-piece set in the block where they belonged. But on the counter were the carefully removed crusts of a white bread sandwich, and he could have sworn he caught a whiff of peanut butter in the air.

He contemplated just ignoring it and trying to go back to sleep, but he knew it just wasn't going to happen. There was no way he could relax knowing that some intruder who was obviously very adept with knives was helping themselves to a midnight snack not 50 feet from where he lay unconscious.

So he got up, tiptoed down the hallway and held his breath outside the kitchen door before getting up the courage to peek around the corner.

He counted to himself - 1 - 2 - 3 - and then jumped out with an "A-HA!"

But no one was there. He counted the Thermoplastic handles and, once again, all were in their rightful place.

Rod was just about to chalk up the whole thing to exhaustion when, out of the corner of this eye, he saw it. A piece of white sandwich bread crust poking out from under the lid of the trash can.

Someone was using his high-end cutlery to make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in the middle of the night. But who?

And then he got his answer. Footsteps running down the hall. Giggles.

TIMMY!

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