So let me tell you a little story about a….no, not a man named Jed, but strangely enough about my mom and peanut butter.

You see, as a small boy, I loved my peanut butter. I know this seems silly, but when you open up a jar, the peanut butter is as smooth as glass, we have all seen it. You open the jar, peel back the seal on the top and there is it, fresh, untouched, creamy peanut butter, right there waiting for the smooth finish to be breached. I always went to great lengths to be the one that got to put the first marks in it. To get that first scoop out, before it gets all messed up with people jamming the knife down the middle, leaving behind all the extra jelly and bread crumbs that all kids leave trails of. I loved that first pristine sample of the new jar.

Now my mom never said a word, let me go about my plotting, rushing to the new jar as soon as the old one was justifiably ready for the trash. Sneaking ahead of my sisters to make that very first mark in the top! So as time went on I got married, had a few kids, but it was a house without peanut butter. You see the matron of that home didn’t like peanut butter so it was never on the shopping list. Amazing but true, no peanut butter and jelly sandwiches were to be had. Now, this wasn’t public knowledge and wasn’t that big of a deal, until…….until my mom found out.

I remember the strange look on her face as we all discussed how every house has peanut butter in the cupboard. The following Christmas I was opening presents from my parents and low and behold one of them was a big jar of Jif. She had taken it upon herself to get peanut butter back in my life. She watched and laughed as I unwrapped it. As I looked up at her with a huge grin, she said: “open it”. As I did, I noticed the inner seal had been tampered with. As I lifted the seal to see what was the matter, much to my amazement the smooth finish had been shattered. You see, before she wrapped it, she opened it and swiped her finger across the top of that smooth perfect finish, taking away my ability to be the first one to touch it.

Every Christmas after that I always got a jar of peanut butter, and every Christmas for some 30 years now, that finish has always been breached. I’m not one that really needs or wants any presents at Christmas time, I have more “things” than I know what to do with as it is…but every Christmas I wondered, is there going to be another jar of peanut butter this year? Is it going to have that now-classic swipe across its finish? Will she surprise me and leave it for me one year. In any event, it is one of the most cherished things for me at Christmas.

As most of you know, I’m living in California now, but my plans to come back for Christmas got thwarted by having to work on Christmas day. It was a sad development. But it was beyond my control being I am low man on totem pole now. Today I got a Christmas card in the mail. Inside that card was a picture of a jar of Jif peanut butter that had been garnered from the internet. The same kind from all the previous Christmas’. The picture was folded up neatly inside the card, as I lifted it with a big smile on my face, out falls a crisp $5 bill so I can get my Christmas peanut butter. Somehow I expected a blemish somewhere, a mark on the picture from her finger.

Alas, I get my first unblemished jar.

You Rock Mom!