Luke wanted to open a coconut. Don't ask why. There is no why, beyond the curiosity of a 5 year old boy. He asked last week if we could get one the next time we were in the grocery store, and of course, I said yes because I'm all about coconut. Well, let me rephrase that, I'm all about Almond Joys and coconut-cream-pie milkshakes from Sonic. Yesterday, he was out of school as his preschool/church/polling station opened up for local voters and we went to the grocery store to pick up a few things. He remembered the coconut, and somehow knew exactly where to find one. Thing about it is, I was really curious about opening a coconut myself, so we make a good team. Wanting to be successful, we asked the produce clerk how to open the nut. He suggested throwing it in the air and whacking it with a large knife. Seriously? Seriously. Apparently he's seen one too many deserted island, lost in a jungle, man and his machete movies. Whatever, dude. Not a chance that my 5 year old and I were throwing a large, hard object in the air and swinging a knife. He must not know how accident prone I am. Move on.

Bought the nut (FYI: you shake them and listen for milk to select a ripe one, that is if you take the word of knife throwing man). Thanks to howtoopenacocount.com (yep) I found proper opening instructions. Strikes me as odd that in 2008 the tools for coconut opening are a hammer, nail, and towel. Couldn't Pampered Chef come up with something?

Of course, like everything else in life, coconut just isn't as good without some sort of processing, preservative and/or artificial sweetener. Luke and I both found the taste to be blah. When I relayed this story to a friend she asked if Luke was disappointed that he didn't like the taste and I'm happy to say no, he got exactly what he wanted, to open a coconut. The taste was somewhat incidental.