The Nutty Stuffer knows that the joy is not in the eating. It is in the getting . It is the half-hour spent with a lobster pick and a sigh, extracting a single, perfect cashew from its honeycomb prison. It is the little pile of empty hulls that grows like a monument to futility. It is the way your fingers smell of iodine and earth for the rest of the evening.
Then you eat it, dust off your hands, and reach for the macadamia. That one looks angry . Nutty Stuffer31
And then, the stuffing.