When we were younger, we used to play war or army.Being fairly progressive kids we used to have a medic for each side.When someone got shot he'd get 'treated' by the medic.We had a few old rags and sheets...the medic would wrap a rag around the arm or the leg of the kid who was shot, indicating where he got injured.One day one of the kids brought a huge butcher knife or cleaver (not a knife) to our wargames.It was kinda cool, he'd run it across your arm and leave a slight mark and that was 'the operation'.
Later, his mom came running out of her house screaming bloody blue murder, " Bradley you get your ass home right now and bring that ^%$#@! knife back!!!"
She chased him around the park a bit and finally he relented close to home where we were playing war.She started paddling his ass between every swear word and we heard - SMACK!..and then him yelping, SMACK! You never take a knife out of this kitchen again!!!! SMACK!...
and so even at a young age I was a smartass and after each time she paddled his bottom I would scream MEDIC!!! and the rest of were rolling on the ground laughing
Point is - He never took a knife out again, more out of embarrassment than her swats on his little behind