Peanut Butter

Did you ever notice how smooth and inviting a fresh jar of peanut butter looks, when you break the seal and open the jar? It calls to the creative and impish among us, and this is how I began writing in it.

“Writing?!” Yes, writing – with a knife, a toothpick, the handle of a spoon. Playing with my food. Or more accurately, playing with someone else’s food.

As newlyweds, oh so many years ago, my husband was the main consumer of peanut butter in our household. We worked opposite shifts for a while, and one time we went three days without even seeing one another. I couldn’t resist a little “I love you” spelled out in his favorite snack, knowing he would see it before he saw me again. And a tradition was born.

When we were first married, we did a lot of things that were fun and silly. I used to save all the money I found in pockets when I did laundry, and we would go out for a nice anniversary dinner. Mr. Pockets grew more careful as the years went on though, and luckily we became more capable of enjoying a dinner out, without relying on the laundry change.

We have lots of good memories about that simpler time of life. Occasionally we get a little emotional tug and wish we were back there, living hand-to-mouth with just our dreams and our idealism to keep us going day to day. We are past that stage now, though. We are lots older, some wiser, and sometimes I believe we’ve grown entirely too serious. That’s why sometimes, I still write in the peanut butter.

© 2012, J. Cools