Aunt Chovie’s Butter
You see…I love peanut butter. I could eat it by itself,
I could eat it with an elf.
I could pair it with banana
I could enjoy it in Havana
Top it with marshmallow cream
What a lip smackin’ dream.
You get the picture.
I made the mistake of reading the ingredients. I blame my wife. She is the ingredient Gestapo. It has begun to affect my usual bad eating decisions.
She says she wants to keep me around. Eating healthier tends to help in that department.
Hers is the back of my peanut butter label-
You see it? All it says is
The freaking count is so high, that they are afraid to list it.
I started to panic.
They I moved my eyes down to the-
“May contain traces of” section.
Yup. There it is….
I wasn’t sure what kind of nut or dairy product that was so I looked it up-
I am so flustered that I can’t even come up with anything that rhymes with anchovy to justify putting into my Dr. Seuss type poem dealio I just made up a minute ago.
If I can’t justify putting it into the poem…HOW CAN I POSSIBLY EAT IT?
I’m just flopping around like a fish out of water trying to comprehend the fish to peanut to butter ratio that lies under the plastic cap of what used to be savory goodness.
Peanut butter and chum does not sound very appetizing.