I am a butter knife. It really stinks. In a way I am very useful, but at the same time I am VERY useless. I can not cut anything. All I do is butter things. I feel so inferior to all the other knifes in the drawer. Like come on, at least they can saw through things and break pieces of food up. Can I do that? Nope. Not me. I sit in that dark, stuffy drawer waiting to put greasy butter on objects of food. Or sticky things like peanut butter, cheese wiz, and jam. Yuck. I mean just the smell of those sticky spreads make me want to gag. But I mean once they cover my shiny surface I can’t breathe anymore anyways. Sometimes they don’t even wash me after they use me! They just leave me sticking out of the peanut butter! It is horribly vulgar. When they do get around to washing me they leave little water droplets on me. Because they do that I get all splotchy and dull, this leaves me shamefaced in that gloomy, oppressive drawer with the other utensils. The worst is when they stick me in there reeking, unhygienic, smelling mouths. YUCK! Since I am not sharp they think they can lick me, which is just plain disgusting. I wish I was sharp so I could teach them a lesson. How dare they stick me in those dark drawers! I should be on the counter with the other “special” knifes. I’ll tell ya why there special. There sharp. I’m second class. A low life knife compared to them. I hate them all but wish I could be one of them so much. It’s not fair! I’ll just have to work my way up there. Maybe if my owners accidentally cut there finger washing the dished on me they’ll think I’m special to! Ooops, time to put this plan into action. It’s bath time!