Pistachios

Three months ago, I was hungry for pistachios.

I didn’t have the teeth to eat them straight or the money for pistachio butter. I turned to my best friend Amazon. Three pounds of pistachios at 49 cents an ounce. I could make my own pistachio butter.

The pistachios arrived shelled. This was no matter; I would unshell them.

This was fun for fifteen minutes. The rest of the hour passed slowly.

I didn’t even make it through half the bag. I didn’t unshell enough pistachios for my Vitamix to work with.

Sixteen years ago, my teeth were falling out. My top priority was that it wasn’t my fault.

I wish it had been my fault.

Then I would have been able to eat a pistachio by now.