This isn’t so much a series of posts, but rather one single post that covers a series of days in the life of a jar of peanut butter. The mother-in-law’s (now re-estranged) husband is was nothing short of an eating-machine, blessed with the ability to eat us out of house and home… which occurred on more than one occasion.
Fixation. This is was part of the problem. A fixation would develop for a certain food and/or beverage. Frequently, the focus was peanut butter (and bread). So, as an experiment, dear hubby and I purchased an inexpensive jar of store-brand peanut butter and left it on the counter. I know, it was a cruel thing to do to the peanut butter, but something had serve as a sacrifice, and it was the cheapest and one of the easiest to document.
Meet The Target:
The Victim: 28 oz Jar of Kroger Creamy Peanut Butter
The Victim: Safety seal remains untouched and intact.
Once we’d left the jar out, all that was left to do was wait… which we did. Things started out slowly, as there were other things in the house that were the objects of his food lust desire for several days… like the leftover turkey I put in the freezer to save for a casserole or the left over beef from a roast I put in the freezer to use for vegetable soup but with our patience came the pay off. I must admit now, that I actually missed the first day… but there wasn’t much removed because there was a previous jar that was finished at the same time this jar was opened. There was also the small problem of others in the kitchen who prevented me from continuing on my peanut butter pictorial diary (snow day from school, so I got up too late)… so I had to start on Day 2.
Day 2: *Important note: Along with each hefty amount of peanut butter consumption goes roughly a half a loaf of bread, give or take a few slices. (Yes, that equals out to about 6 sandwiches per sitting. Yes, sitting… as in each run to the peanut butter jar yielded a plate stacked with 5, 6 or 7 sandwiches that would be shoveled in his face as he sat on the couch in front of the boob tube. I won’t even mention his leaving the plates in the living room… Oh, shit, I did it anyway.)
No, I’m not joking.
Day 2
Day 3:
Another day goes by, more peanut butter goes bye-bye.
Day 4: Now came a one week break in the peanut butter usage, because the husband of the mother-in-law went AWOL for a week to help out a member of his family… which is a topic for a completely different blog (or maybe not). So, again, we had to turn on the patience while we waited for his return. Once he got back, he wasted no time in re-violating this helpless jar of PB.
Day 4... and so it goes.
Day 5: more of the same… and lots more bread gone.
Day 5... on and on and on.
Day 6: At this point, I had to apologize to the innocent peanut butter jar.
Day 6... almost gone.
Day 7: Finally, it’s over. The peanut butter jar was given a proper American burial in the trash can, with a small prayer and blessings for it’s martyrdom.
All gone.
So, there you have it. Seven days for God to create the Heavens and the Earth, and seven days for husband of the mother-in-law to demolish a 28 oz jar a peanut butter… and a good 3 1/2 to 4 loaves of bread.
I was going to also include documentation of the loaves of bread as they swiftly disappeared, however… as the final image will show, that is a very difficult task since there always seems to be several loaves open at the same time, and I never knew who used which one unless I personally witnessed it. We (meaning my husband, son, and myself) do NOT eat the bread out of this kitchen. Why? I can’t even count the number of times I have gotten up at 6 am, to get my son up for school and there has been a loaf of bread sitting OPEN on the table or the counter. I always leave them (yes, you don’t have to say it) for the mother-in-law to find. I watched her one day… and she just closed it up and left it there. UGH!!! Speaking of open food, there’s yet ANOTHER post topic!! LOL (Oh, sorry.)
Here are 3 open loaves of bread. WTH? Seriously?
I love peanut butter. Jif peanut butter to be exact. But Jif is by no means a cheap peanut butter. I bought it a several weeks prior to this one and it disappeared just as fast… since that time, my Jif peanut butter stays tucked away in a dresser drawer in our bedroom (along with a nice, soft loaf of bread), for safe keeping. I know, I know, that’s incredibly sad. I admit it. But, with that being said, I noticed that BILL keeps his own personal jar 0f cheap, cardboard-tasting peanut butter in his room, also… along with numerous other things. But that, too, is a post for another day.
I hope that I am entertaining you all with my frustration here. And if there is one person, just one, who is or has gone through the same thing with their in-laws (or even their own family), to them I say, “You are not alone, my friend… you are not alone.”
