I may as well put this story out there, because Mike keeps telling on me! So, y'all may as well know, too.
On the morning we left for our cruise, we flew out of Harrisburg, and on our way through security, we took off and handed over our shoes, jackets, purses, and carry-on luggage to be put through the scanner, and my itty-bitty purse caused a problem. They stopped the scanner, looked again, and finally held up the little purse and asked, "who does this belong to?" Mike immediately pointed at me and said, "It's hers!" Yep, it's mine. So, this nice lady with rubber gloves on starts looking through my little purse, with all its deep, tiny pockets, and at first, I had no idea what the problem was. Then, all of a sudden, I knew, and started babbling, and spilling my guts, because yes, I was sore afraid.
at which the security person smiles, and she says, "yeah, that's exactly what it is," and then she pulled it out, and there it was, that white-sheathed cutter, with my initials on it, the one I thought I'd lost. Well, now I really have lost it. The woman who searched my purse was actually really nice about it, was actually apologetic when she said, "Ya know I have to chuck this--unless you'd like it mailed..." Wow, I was flabbergasted--that was it. That's all that happened. I had an evil box cutter, and there was no detention, no jail time, not even a mean security person scowling at me!
The thing that gets me is, I knew I had to be careful with these little things, and really thought I'd found all of them, expunged'em from all of my pockets, jackets, and totes, and then got caught anyway.
I didn't have any liquids, though!