Feel the Peanutbutter, Baby!

Greetings, Guests and Mommas!

It's hot, and I'm drinking strong Irish black tea with blue agave sweetner, which is supposed to be better for your body than real sugar in some vague way. The plan today was to do a long, introspective post on the movie Revolutionary Road, which I saw 48 whole hours ago and still can't stop thinking about. For those of you who haven't see it, this one brings together everyone's favorite lovers: Leonardo DiCaprio (the totally cliche hottie who nobody can deny is hot) and Kate Winslet (and arguably the most luciously gorgeous woman on the planet; if I could leap through the movie screen and devour her whole, I would). The movie has to do with babies and dead babies, parenthood and dead parenthood, and other amazing things. It resonated with me, and with Kevin too.

But honestly, I'm just too hot and woozy right now to really focus my thoughts and give Revolutionary Road the philosophical and analytical attention it deserves. Plus, who wants to think about something so deep on this hot, sweat-rash-on-inner-thighs-inducing day.

So I'll save that one for next time, and instead share my most recent Costco shopping escapade(for the handful of you connected to me on Facebook, this is a repeat, so please ignore). Remember we talked about that big tee-pee construct that's left when the baby goes away - the roof, the walls, the finances, the jobs, the security, all that? It's moments like these that fill those empty spaces, that make me aggravated yet ultimately reassured that I'm alive, that I can - and do - still feel peanutbutter molecules caressing my pores.

For those of you internationals who might not know, Costco is a huge-ass chain store where huge-ass people go in their huge-ass cars to push huge-ass shopping carts through huge-ass aisles stocked with huge-ass quantities of edibles and non-edibles. Need a roll of toilet paper? Too bad. At Costco, you're buying 30 packed together. Need a knifeful of mayonnaise for your deli sandwich? Too bad - you're buying a 3-gallon jug of mayo, so you'd better start brainstorming now for future uses. Supposedly it saves you money to buy in this manner - gigantic quantities for a lower cost per unit. Which is why I went there with my mom one day, and stocked up on the goods.

Among those goods was a gigantic, supposedly cheaper-than-the-small-size tub of peanutbutter - Adam's All-Natural. You know: the kind in which the oil separates on top, and you have to stir to mix it with the hardened, dry peanutbutter-matter on the bottom.



Normally, you can easily mix the oil in with a few stirs. But it turns out that with a super-human size jug of the stuff, normal mixing mechanisms don't work so well.





Now, Kevin - who was against purchasing such an obscenely large quantity of peanut butter from the beginning (but it's SUCH A GOOD DEAL, I assured him!), had his morning bread toasted and ready to get nutter-buttered. And you can believe it - I was most certainly getting the told-you-so look from across the kitchen. So I decided to take matters into my own hands, literally.

First, I dumped the oil and some of its peanutty accoutrements into a bowl.



Next, I took the plunge, fancying myself as a human-mixer and cursing Costco for false advertising. Nobody warned me it would come to this!

Tebow looked on with great interest, as you can imagine. And after a bit of elbow grease, it was finally ready to go.







And with a small amount of hesitation, Kevin proceeded to spread a wee bit of this well-mixed peanut goodness onto his toast. The product of my labor.

I felt triumphant, and alive!