Not because I like pistachios, although I do.

I was in the shower, and my two year old son barged in to tell me that he and his five year old sister were going to eat pistachios(!). A shiver ran down my spine, which, to be fair, may have partially been caused by the sudden rush of cold air into the shower. But mainly, it was from the thought of two unsupervised, rambunctious balls of crazy attempting to get pistachios out of the Costco-sized bag and into a bowl (?/table?/air vent?), then crack open these oh-so-flaky nuts, and do something with the shells before getting them into their mouths (?/ears?/hair?/Christmas tree?). Luckily, he ran away in excitement before I had the chance to react to what he had told me.

About 5 minutes later, I stepped out of the shower, put on my robe, and braced myself for the carnage. I walked into the kitchen, and saw this:

And there came the smile.

If you give them the chance, children will rise to the occasion.