Not exactly plane-legal

Handing me items out of his car, I got loaded down with a pizza box, a Gatorade bottle, a carry-on bag and a jar of salsa.

I was eying this Life magazine from Jan. 6, 1961 sitting on top of another bag in the trunk, which next to the one in which he was rooting. The magazine had an illustration from the Civil War on the cover.

"Cool," I said.

"Well, I went shopping today," he said. See, Idiot, that is exactly 100 years after the start of the Civil War, he meant to say.

"Oh, cool."

"I saw it and just had to have it. And I got this shower mirror, this drain thing for the bathtub at home ..," he continued.

Then he started digging around a little deeper in the bag.

"Here, take this, too. I might have you bring this home with you when you come in August," he said.

"Why?" Looked like a Target bag to me.

"Well," he said, unwrapping it to reveal an antique dagger. "I got this antique dagger." Yes, a dagger, he said. "I don't think it's exactly a good idea to bring on the plane. I don't even want to try packing this."

"Not exactly plane-legal," I said, wondering what one does with an antique dagger while holding it gingerly by the handle-through-the-plastic.

"Yeah, I can just see them, 'Mr. Niese, please step over here a second.'"

So, that explains the double-bagged object sitting on my kitchen counter, waiting for its car ride to Ohio.

I'm glad I'm not having marital problems.