Peanut Butter and Us

I haven’t been doing a very good job of following the news lately. No, seriously, I didn’t even know about a coal train that derailed within three miles of my house a few weeks ago.

But eventually I do hear about things, and the recent peanut butter recall was one that had me sending Matt to the pantry to dig out all his granola bars, because he always gets peanut-buttery ones. So he pulls out a CLIF bar and I read him off the dates that are supposedly contaminated, and he says oh, yeah, this is one of them.

And then he looks again in the pantry and says “That’s all we have.”

“Didn’t we buy a whole bunch a little while ago?”

“Yeah. I already ate them.”

I’m not sure if I can describe why, but this has me laughing so hard my eyes are tearing up. He ate them. No salmonella here, or at least none that affected him.

He ate them. *snorfle*

Good night to all, and may your accidental peanut butter eatings be as uneventful as Matt’s.

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