At the core

I made a life changing discovery recently... one that I simply must share.

While rifling through some kitchen stuff, I came across a weird circular cutting tool. Fascinated, I resisted the urge to throw it like a frisbee and asked the missus what it was.

She was unimpressed. "It's an apple corer."

"Really? How do you use it?" I asked.

"To core apples. You hold it like this..." she monotoned as she showed me how to use the device.

People, I had found yet another reason for living. You're telling me that there is a device out there that can remove the core while slicing the good stuff into perfect sections? My life was now complete.

Unfortunately, we had a newly-bought bag of apples in the refrigerator. I snuck away to play with my new toy.

About twelve apples later, while suffering from apple poisoning brought on from inexplicable over-indulgence and nursing wrists sore from corer-exertion, I looked back on all that I had gained from the exercise with glee. I made a solemn vow to never eat an uncored apple ever again. I also toyed with the idea of sharing my discovery with the masses, and being considered a corer pioneer on Twitter.

I asked the wifey how we had lived without the life-saving device. She was nonplussed, and shockingly, did not share my elation.

"We have always had it. In fact we have more than one."

What?

At first, I painfully recalled each apple that I had consumed over the course of eight years. Uncored. I mourned the lost opportunities. But then, another angle began to show itself. How many talents and opportunities have been hidden to me? How many times have I missed an opportunity to serve (or ignored it) because I didn't think I had the tools to be a servant?

On the flip side, have I become stronger in some aspects because I was forced to be creative in the absence of a tool or gift that did not manifest till later in life?

All in all, I refuse to go through life any longer without coring knives, and I am grateful for the perpetual gifting idea for family and friends.

*** picture from Amazon.

At the core