Have you ever cracked a coconut?
The last time I remember doing it, we were in Anaheim visiting my cousins. They were all lunatics, so it does not suprise me we broke a coconut in their garage.
I have become my lunatic cousins.
Apparently, after six days of looking at the $.79 coconut on the counter, my husband could look no longer, and said "Let the cracking begin."
Ok, he didn't really say that. But it sounds like something he would say.
Here is what he did do:
1. Kidnapped my craft drill. His drill was of course drained of its battery. And this coconut was not going to wait for any battery charging. It had already been waiting six days, sheesh!
2. Drilled two small holes in the brown, hairy surface. It really feels creepy. Makes me think of Bigfoot. Or Planet of the Apes. I know, I'm weird.
3. Drained the coconut of its juices.
4. Forced all of us to taste the juice. In case you haven't tasted it, it doesn't make you think of Pina Coladas. It tastes very watery, and a little sweet. Not my favorite, but I lived.
5. Grabbed the sledge hammer. Why do we have a sledge hammer, you ask? Well, to hammer in all those railroad ties, of course.
6. Led the three boys out into the front yard. (And no, he was not responsible enough to think of going out there on his own. He actually began in my kitchen. On my granite counters. Seriously.)
7. Handed the sledge hammer to our 8 year old. I can't even begin to justify this one. But look at this face:
8. Changed his mind. Asked for the hammer back.
9. Prepped Tiny T on how to use the hammer.
10. Gave me a high five, proud of teaching our son something he will use time and again if he is ever stuck on a deserted island. And has a sledge hammer.
11. Gave last minute instructions for a perfect hit.
12. Watched as his son was about to destroy a harmless coconut. Poor coconut. It didn't do anything to us.
13. ENEMY BEWARE!!! or coconut beware. Either way.
14. Watched as victory was ours. The coconut was finally destroyed.
15. Decided that a coconut on the inside looks like an iceberg. Or a fossilized rock. Again, weird.
16. Wondered where our older sons were? Oh, here they are.
17. Commented on how interested they looked.
Interested in teasing their brother, that is.
See, they were in the background the entire time. Chomping at the bit. Waiting to get a swing.
But at our house, the little guys go first at the Pinata. ( I looked at this as a pinata-type activity, anything where they are wielding a weapon)
In this case, Tiny T is the little guy. His first swing was totally off target. Forgive him, he is not used to swinging a sledge hammer, so Mom and Dad gave him another chance.
The big kids knew what this meant. They knew if Tiny T was given a second chance at the coconut, he would obliterate it.
And he did.
And I felt bad for the big kids. They didn't even get a chance. It must have been very anti-climatic for them. They moped inside the house.
So, I did what any normal mother would do.
I went out and got two more coconuts. To smack around outside in the driveway.
I know my neighbors think we are nuts.
Yes, we are nuts.
Coco-nuts.
