If you’ve ever explored your grandparents’ house, you’ve probably found some strange items that left you puzzled.
Recently, someone online shared a photo of some metal tools that, if it weren’t for the nut-shaped bowl they’re in, could be mistaken for tiny weapons.
People online quickly started guessing what these odd tools were for, with one person even joking that they might be used to “find cavities.” Curious to know more about this mysterious tool? Keep reading!
Most of us have heard of a nutcracker—not the ballet with the Sugar Plum Fairy, but the metal tool used to crack open nuts.
A nutcracker looks like pliers and usually has two metal arms with a hinge at the top. The arms are often serrated to grip the nut better. You place the nut in the jaws of the nutcracker, squeeze the arms together, and the shell cracks open, revealing the nut inside.
Nutcrackers come in all sorts of designs and sizes, from simple handheld ones to fancy, decorative pieces.
Some are made for specific types of nuts, while others can handle a variety of nuts and even shellfish like lobster or crab.
Getting the nut out of its hard shell isn’t always easy. After cracking the shell, you still have to deal with the meat sticking to the tough walls inside.
That’s where a nut pick comes in, which is the tool that’s confusing people online.
Nut picks come in different styles and materials, like metal, wood, or plastic. Some even have fancy handles or are designed to be comfortable to use.
They’re useful for enjoying all kinds of nuts, such as walnuts, pecans, and almonds, where you need to get the edible part out of the shell.
People online have been sharing their experiences with these versatile tools.
One person remembered the hard work of cracking nuts in the past, saying, “We used them for walnuts. Back then, you didn’t buy pre-cracked walnuts for baking; you had to crack them open yourself.”
Another user shared, “We used them for walnuts, pecans, and more. They came with the nutcracker and were also great for getting lobster out of those tiny legs.”
Someone else mentioned, “They’re crab and lobster meat picks. I’m lucky to still have my family’s set. Growing up near Maine, we had lots of chances to use them!”
Another person added that she’s found multiple uses for the pick, saying, “I’ve used them for their intended purpose, but as an artist, I’ve also found other ways to use them.”
Others had different ideas. One user said, “They’re called olive picks, but you can use them for other things, so your hands don’t touch the food.” Another joked, “Mostly used to pick your teeth after a big dinner… also handy for finding cavities!”
What are your favorite memories of using nutcrackers and picks?
Share your thoughts in the comments and spread the word so we can hear from others too!
I Offered a Homeless Man a Job out of Desperation — the Next Morning, I Was Shocked by What He Had Done to My Office
Facing the collapse of his career and his family’s business, Jason made a desperate decision: he hired a homeless man to pose as a consultant for one crucial meeting. Little did he know, that unlikely move would turn out to be the key to saving everything he had worked for.
I was out of time. The words my father had said to me last night played over and over in my head like a broken record: “Fix this or you’re out.” Simple. Cold. Final.
A serious man | Source: Pexels
Our company wasn’t just any company. It was the family business. My grandfather started it, my dad built it up, and now I was supposed to keep it going. “Supposed to,” being the key phrase.
I could still picture his face, hard as stone. He was the boss, not just of the company, but of the family. And when he made a decision, it was done. No arguments. No excuses.
A sad man | Source: Pexels
I glanced at my watch. Twenty-four hours. That’s all I had left to fill the specialist position or I was done. Gone. Finished.
The problem was, no one wanted the job. It wasn’t easy. I needed a real genius, someone who knew the ins and outs of the system we were developing.
A young man deep in thought | Source: Pexels
The contract was bigger than anything our company had ever handled. If we messed it up, the whole business could go under. And right now, it looked like that was exactly what was going to happen.
I had spent six months searching for the right person. Every interview was a disaster. Too inexperienced, not skilled enough, or just plain wrong for the job. And now, the clock was ticking.
A man holding a job interview | Source: Pexels
I left the office and walked down the street, my head pounding. I needed to think, to come up with some sort of solution, anything that could save me. But all I could feel was the pressure. The weight of the clock ticking down on my shoulders. The fear of disappointing my father.
I found myself wandering into a small coffee shop. The place was warm, the smell of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. But even the comfort of the shop did nothing to calm the storm in my mind. I was out of ideas. I was out of time.
A small coffee shop | Source: Pexels
As I left the shop, I noticed a man sitting on the curb. He was bundled up in a ragged coat, his hair messy, his eyes dull. He was homeless, no doubt. He sat there, staring down at the sidewalk like it held all the answers to life’s biggest questions.
I don’t know why I stopped. Maybe it was the desperation. Maybe it was the sheer insanity of the situation. But I stood there, looking at this man, and a crazy thought popped into my head.
A homeless man | Source: Pexels
What if?
Without thinking, I walked over to him. “Hey,” I said.
He looked up, squinting at me like I was speaking a foreign language. “Yeah?”
“I know this sounds nuts, but…how’d you like a job? Just for a day.”
He blinked, his face expressionless. “What’s the catch?”
A cardboard sign | Source: Pexels
“No catch. I need someone to sit in on a meeting. Pretend you’re a consultant. I’ll pay you. No strings attached.”
For a long second, he just stared at me. Then, to my surprise, he smirked. “You serious?”
I nodded. “Completely.”
He scratched his chin, his eyes narrowing. “And all I gotta do is sit in a meeting?”
A man looking away | Source: Pexels
“That’s it.”
He let out a short laugh. “Alright. What do I wear?”
The next morning, I walked into the office, expecting chaos. Maybe Michael wouldn’t show up. Maybe everything would fall apart. But as soon as I stepped inside, I froze.
A shocked young man | Source: Pexels
The office wasn’t the same. Music played softly in the background, and there was a table full of coffee and pastries. People were laughing, talking, smiling—something I hadn’t seen in months. The tension that had hung over the team was gone, replaced by an almost celebratory atmosphere.
And there, right in the middle of it all, was Michael.
A confident middle-aged man | Source: Freepik
He was cleaned up—hair trimmed, face freshly shaved, wearing a sharp suit that I had no idea where he got. He was talking with some of my staff like he’d known them for years, leaning in, listening, making them laugh. For a second, I had to remind myself who he really was. Just yesterday, he had been sitting on a sidewalk, bundled in a ragged coat.
I felt a pit in my stomach. This was going to blow up in my face. My dad was going to walk in any minute, and he’d see right through the act. Then, I’d be out—no more chances.
A scared young man | Source: Pexels
The meeting started, and I sat down, ready to coast through the day. Michael was supposed to nod and smile, not say a word. That was the plan.
But as soon as we began discussing the contract, Michael stood up.
“Alright, folks, let’s get serious,” he said, walking over to the whiteboard. He picked up a marker and started sketching out diagrams, arrows, and workflow strategies faster than I could process.
A smiling man | Source: Freepik
At first, I thought he was bluffing, just drawing random nonsense. But then I looked closer. Everything he was putting out there was exactly what we’d been struggling with for months. He broke down the system, piece by piece, offering solutions that no one else had even thought of.
The room was dead silent. My father, who had joined the meeting without a word, crossed his arms and watched Michael closely. I braced myself, expecting the worst.
A man giving a presentation | Source: Pexels
Michael finished, turning to the room with a grin. “Any questions?”
I glanced around. My team was wide-eyed. My father raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Finally, one of our top engineers spoke up.
“How did you… how did you figure that out? We’ve been stuck on that problem for weeks.”
A man talking during a meeting | Source: Pexels
Michael shrugged. “It’s just about looking at things differently. You’ve got good people, good systems. You just needed a little tweak.”
I sat there in stunned silence. How was this even possible? Who was this guy?
My father leaned forward, his eyes never leaving Michael. “Well, Jason,” he said, his voice calm. “It looks like you found your solution after all.”
A man in his office | Source: Pexels
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I had spent months trying to fix this, and now a homeless man—someone I’d picked up off the street out of sheer desperation—had just solved everything in one morning.
After the meeting, I pulled Michael aside, away from the others. “Okay, who are you, really?” I asked, my voice low but firm. “You’re not just some random guy off the street.”
Two men talking | Source: Freepik
Michael looked at me, his eyes suddenly tired. “No, I’m not,” he said, leaning against the wall. “I used to run a business. A good one. But things went bad. My ex-wife… she set me up, destroyed my reputation, took everything. Once you’re labeled a failure, people don’t care to hear your side of the story. I lost the company. Lost everything.”
I stared at him, speechless. He continued, “It wasn’t long before I had nowhere to go. No one wanted to hire me, and the few people who might’ve helped were long gone. I ended up on the streets. Been there for a while now.”
A thoughtful man | Source: Pexels
My mind was racing. How could someone like him, with all this knowledge and experience, end up living like that?
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, still trying to wrap my head around it.
He chuckled softly. “Would you have believed me?”
A chuckling man | Source: Pexels
I didn’t know what to say. Part of me felt guilty for assuming the worst. But another part of me was in awe. This man, who had lost everything, was still brilliant. And in the end, he had saved me. Saved my job. Saved the company.
Just then, my father approached. He didn’t look angry, but there was something in his eyes I hadn’t seen before. “Michael,” he said, his tone thoughtful, “how would you like a permanent position with us? You’ve clearly got the skills we need.”
A smiling middle-aged man with his arms crossed | Source: Freepik
Michael looked at me, then back at my dad. A small smile tugged at his lips. “I think I’d like that,” he said quietly.
I didn’t know how to feel. Relief? Gratefulness? A part of me was even a little jealous. Here was a man who had walked in out of nowhere, and within a day, he’d earned my father’s respect—the thing I had been fighting for my whole life.
Two people shaking hands | Source: Unsplash
But as I stood there, watching Michael and my father shake hands, I realized something. This wasn’t just about me. Michael deserved this chance, maybe more than anyone else.
He had been knocked down, but he hadn’t given up. And maybe, just maybe, that’s what real leadership was about.
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