On Peanuts

Devon is watching a movie and asks for popcorn, being unwilling to stand around making popcorn for 20 minutes I instead grab a bag of peanuts that has been languishing in his bedroom and give him that. As I turn to head back upstairs and continue to stare unproductively at a psychology essay, he asks me if he could have a bowl.

“A bowl? Can’t you just eat them out of the bag?”

“No, they taste…too compressed like that.”

“Compressed? What does that mean?

“You know, like they’re all shouting, “LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT!“”

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