Once upon a time in decades past I was able to mystify my grandchildren.
Some of our six children waited eight or more years after the trek to the altar before they produced children. Then, when they tumbled on to it they collectively produced eighteen cuddly, adorable babies in less than ten years’ time. So for a glorious while we had simply gobs of grandchildren that came regularly to visit.
As the grandkids got to a certain age they were delightfully easy to amaze.
Enter George Washington Carver, his lifelong attention a certain humble legume and a grandmother with a point to make.
The revelation did not originate with me but it is apt and I have been using it for fifty some years.
Said Grandma to her captive audience, “I have something in my hand that no one has ever seen before this moment. Never. No one. Furthermore, after I show it to you I will make it disappear and no one will ever see it again. Never. No one.”
Grown-ups on the fringes of our circle rolled their collective eyes and the children’s peepers grew big as saucers. Slowly I unfurled my fist to reveal a much loved peanut – still in its shell. No one, honestly, but no one has ever laid eyes on what is inside this husk.
Shucking the peanut hull exposed the nut to humanity for the very first time.
Popping the tasty peanut in my mouth, chewing and swallowing it ensured no one would ever see it again. Never No One.
And thus was born the legendary object lesson.
Grin, groan, and hearty guffaws!