The Twenty-One Eleven Disease

Last week when we went to Kade's basketball game we grabbed a sandwich after I got home from work. Paul ate a meat and cheese sandwich, and I ate my favorite, a peanut butter sandwich-loaded with peanut butter-with a stalk of celery. Mmmm, mmmm, so good.

About an hour later while I was talking with Rachelle, I became deathly nauseous and broke out in a sweat. She didn't know it, but I leaned over to Paul and said that I didn't know if I could get out of the gym in time to "toss my cookies." I was so sick. But, mind over matter. I breathed deep and deeper and deeper still. Told my stomach to calm down and that I was not, I was not going to add to the stink in the gym. I was not! And I made it. It passed. Barely. That was a new, strange feeling. That never ever happens to me.

For several days in a row before that I would feel sickly in the morning. I couldn't figure out what was wrong. I remember telling myself, all I'm eating in the morning is a peice of toast with a little peanut butter and taking my vitamins. But I was fighting a bad stomach most mornings. Paul also was having stomach problems.

We didn't make any connection with anything. Just thought we were having a hard time.

Then out came the news about the bad peanut butter. It took awhile to make the connection, but I finally did when I saw a little kid from a family in Edmond who said, "I just throwed it up." Bingo! Suddenly everything fell into place. Oh, my gosh! Sure enough. We checked and we had a large peanut butter jar that was one third gone with the number on top that began 2111... (That's what I'm calling the twenty-one eleven disease. Get it? ;-)

Our compensation? I don't think it's worth it to send in for a rebate on the cost of the peanut butter. That to me is just a hassle. But it's certainly good to know we don't have some bad, bad disease that's making us sick all the time. Who would have ever guessed? Anyway, all is well and since I quit eating that jar of peanut butter, I'm feeling a ton better! I'm not going to give up peanut butter; I'm just going to watch my brands for awhile.

Moral of this story: Can't think of a good one, except that we sure do have a lot of faith in our food processing system in this country. Never even crossed my mind that something could be wrong with the peanut butter. Perhaps a good moral is this: Nothing's sure; nothing's pure; Keep that in mind; and don't be fooled.

Perhaps a fun thing to do: If you read this blog, try your hand at a story moral and write it in the comments. We could have some fun out of this.
MB