Archive for March 26th, 2008

Do you have any idea what burnt peanut butter smells like? 

If you do you can laugh with me instead of at me.  If not, then you can just chalk it up in the column marked Mox Is Crazy. 

I packed Spawn’s lunch last night before I went to bed.  As much as I hate to admit things like this, my mother is right about getting ready for the next day by doing as much as you can the night before.  Often this means I’m the last one to go to bed in the evening because I’m doing things like making sure there are clean uniforms or packing lunches.  I resent it but if I were to leave this sort of thing to the other members of my household we’d have a fully charged cell phone, a backpack full of toys, and possibly a horked-up hairball waiting at the back door each day.  Because what else do you need in life, am I right? 

So.  Packing lunch.  I am just a teensy bit obsessive about what I pack in Spawn’s lunch, since the kid gets the Full Daily Allotment of junk no matter what I do and I sorta feel like it’s my duty to wedge some healthy stuff in there.  Getting the kid to eat raw veggies is like being on a game show because it’s luck of the draw sometimes.  Currently we are off broccoli, but cucumbers and baby carrots are okay, as long as there’s not too many.  And it’s always a challenge to get some protein into the kid, since I can’t get the kid to eat a sandwich. 

I knew I was tempting fate, or the wrath of the school lunch gods, or something, but I decided to fix a sandwich for Spawn’s lunch.  The kid won’t go for PB&J unless it’s that high sugar white bread Smuckers Uncrustables crap which to me seems an awful lot like candy masquerading as health food.  So I tried a new twist:  PB&B, or peanut butter and bananas, on raisin toast.  Hey, I’ve never tried that one before. 

I buy the “natural” peanut butter, the kind that you have to stir before using and keep in the fridge after opening.  The problem is, refrigerated peanut butter is hard as a brickbat to spread, unless you let it sit out on the counter for an hour or two and soften up.  More often than not I’m not organized enough to think that far ahead, so I’ve hit upon an solution to soften up the peanut butter in a hurry:  I nuke it. 

It’s been a while since I’ve used my jar of refrigerated peanut butter, so I’ve forgotten how long I zap it for to soften it up.  Guess what?  The time limit is substantially less than one minute. 

The smell of liquefied, burnt peanut butter is, well, indescribable. 

It’s also really hard to get that smell out of your nose. 

When I took the jar out of the microwave, the center of the peanut butter was bubbling, like magma.  I stirred it around, to distribute the heat a bit, and even managed to salvage enough to make half a sandwich.  The rest of it, I’m not too sure about. 

I put it back in the fridge and will conduct a smell test again this evening.  Assuming my nose has recovered sufficiently by that time. 

Sometimes I think God has put me on this earth to serve as an example to others. 

— Mox

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