Today I was at a fine dining establishment with a few of my friends. After receiving our food one of my friends, who ordered steak, seemed somewhat confused but excited at the same time. That’s when she told us “this is the first time I’m cutting my own steak…my dad usually does it for me!” She said this like there was nothing wrong with it. Like there was nothing wrong with the fact that a 20 year old had never, until this very day, cut her own steak. I told her you cut it the same way you’d cut any other food and then she told me she usually just cuts things with her fork. I face-palmed at that very moment. She just didn’t get it “like what’s good? I don’t know what’s good!” she was talking about what parts were meat and what parts were fat. I told her it would be obvious. She also held her knife quite weird.
It makes me think of how fortunate I am to have grown up in a family where I was given the chance to cut my steak at such a young age. Never take anything in life for granted!
I will say, however, that at 21 I still get my steak knife taken away from me quite often because I play with it too much. You know, I cut the paper table cloth and such…tap on the water glass…my mom doesn’t trust me.