A Simple Jar of Peanut Butter

The jar of peanut butter was sitting on the counter, unopened. I watched as my brother placed the bread on the counter beside it and went to bring the homemade strawberry jam from the fridge. And I thought to myself, "That peanut butter hasn't been opened."

At that moment David must have realized my thoughts as he looked at me with a grin, "Don't even think about it. It my turn." Not ready to admit defeat, I protested, "No, you opened the last jar, this time I should get to."

Yes, we were actually arguing over who would get to open the jar of peanut butter. For both of us there had always been something special about opening a jar of peanut butter, looking down at the unmarred smooth surface with the three precise ripples and one little peak made by the machine that had filled the jar. Then after admiring this odd form of beauty would come the ultimate moment, the prize we were fighting over. To take a knife or a spoon and gently dip it into the glossy brown surface, taking the first glob of peanut butter and destroying the newness of that particular jar of peanut butter. Of course the rest of the prize was that you didn't use the first knifeful for your sandwich, oh no that was sanctified – set apart – just for the mouth of the prize winner.

Its been years since I have engaged in the ritual ceremony of opening the peanut butter jar. Partly because my brother has been married for the past eight years and half of the fun was in the race to see who could win this particular prize. The other reason…because in Kenya we buy natural peanut butter, the kind with a layer of goopy oil on top which must be mixed into the rest of the butter before it can be used.

However, I have not written the story of the peanut butter jar for no reason. Actually I believe it has a spiritual significance in my life, I just haven't figured it out yet. So while I'm trying to discover what deep spiritual meaning this insignificant little story could possibly have, I hope you have enjoyed the story and please by all means find a friend or a sibling and discover the competition and fun of being the first to open the peanut butter jar.

Please note: I have no idea why I just wrote this little story but I felt like writing something and this was what I felt like writing about. So since I wrote it I figure others might as well read it – that's why I'm posting it to my blog. David, I hope you read this and laugh as you remember. I don't know what made me remember how we used to do this but when I did I just felt like writing about it. Maybe some day I'll have your way with words and telling stories from our childhood to make a point.