Seven words sum up one of my spousal unit's core beliefs: You Can Never Have Too Many Tools.

So when the Canadian Tire weekly sale catalogue comes into our mailbox, the tool section is read with a rapt devotion that is quasi-religious.

This week's catalogue featured a generation five Stud Finder. My husband, who makes his living as a carpenter, waxed eloquent about how the new technology would allow him to never, ever miss a stud.

(For those of you not lucky enough to have a carpenter in your life, a stud is one of those upright pieces of wood that tie a wall together. You need to find them to hang heavy shelves, trace wiring or plumbing, stuff like that. Hard to find once the drywall is up and the walls are painted, though.)

Paul covets this tool, although sitting in his toolbox are generation three and generation four Stud Finders, which are probably pretty good. But they're NOT generation five.

"A stud can be hard to find," he told me solemnly.

"Tell me about it," I replied.

I managed to almost keep a straight face when I said that, too. Don't you love it when words have more than one meaning?

Then I reminded Paul of that Christmas many years ago when Poppa gave Paul's older brother, Mike, a Stud Finder as a Christmas gift.

Now at Paul's family Christmas we have a tradition of cracking a few bottles of wine with the gifts, and my sister-in-law Gis�le was fairly lit up.

She saw the Stud Finder and she didn't think of the carpentry meaning, oh no, she thought of the OTHER meaning. So she immediately grabbed it and began passing it over her husband's chest. No reaction, because these old Stud Finders worked mostly by magnetics, they lit up when they passed over metal (like the nails that hold stud walls together.)

"Hmphhhhh," said Gis�le. We were all cracking up.

Paul was next. Again the Stud Finder was mute. The hilarity mounted. You do NOT want to set a bunch of cheerily tipsy middle-aged women loose with a Stud Finder, guys, you do NOT. It's surprising the rude things that will escape our lips when we get liquored up.

Finally, it was Mike's turn, Paul's middle brother, the guy who had been gifted with the Stud Finder. Gis�le passed it over his chest and the darn thing lit up like a Christmas tree. Kid you not. Of course, Mike was wearing a western type denim shirt with snap buttons full of metal ...

Well Mr. Man, he was insufferable. Whenever Mike wanted to crack anyone up, he'd pass the Stud Finder over his shirt. The word strut does not begin to tell you how he walked around that afternoon.

Well, anyhow, I drove out to Canadian Tire today and tried to get Paul one of those Generation Five Stud Finders but they were sold out. Dang. I had to take a Rain Check so that's what I'll have to put in the envelope with his Father's Day card.

I guess there's lots of folks out there looking for studs, eh.