I have a bit of advice that I need to share with you before it’s too late. I’m telling you this purely out of the most selfless of motives, and soon you shall see why. Here it is: If you ever buy Adam’s peanut butter, or any of the kinds that you have to stir, Do not, I repeat, DO NOT get the brilliant idea of stirring it right in the jar with an electric mixer using only one of the beaters and without holding on to the jar. This may seem like the perfect solution to all peanut butter woes, but it will not produce the desired effect, which would be nicely combined peanut butter STILL IN THE JAR. Once again, this is a very bad idea. I hope I have saved you from the misery which surely would have befallen you, had you endeavored to perform this operation in this manner. I have learned, through painful experience, that it is wise to empty the peanut butter into a separate and very large receptacle, and commence stirring with an un-motorized implement, until the peanut butter is incorporated with the oil, and then return the emulsification to the original container. I hope you will pass this advice on to all that you love, and save them from peanut-related despair.

After reading Kathryn’s Lycopene post, I was reminded of this similar incident that happened to me not too long ago. My then 4-year-old, we shall call him Calvin, had invited his best friend over to play for the morning. They are fantastically rowdy, but they loooove each other, and can play all day together. So we invited T-man to stay for lunch. I asked what they wanted, and they said “Twirlies!” Those are just peanut butter and honey on a whole-wheat flour tortilla, rolled up and sliced about a quarter inch thick. My kids love them. Anyway, I made the twirlies, then decided to tackle the gigantic tub of peanut butter that hadn’t been stirred yet.

It took about 1/4 of a second to realize the flaw in my plan, but about 6 seconds for the beater to come to a full stop. By that time, the damage was definitely done. I wasn’t holding on to the jar. Instead of swirling around the peanut butter inside the jar, my powerful Kitchenaid electric hand mixer just picked up the entire jar and spun it around at lightning speed, just like a centrifuge. And just like a centrifuge, it dispersed the contents in the center to the nether regions of my kitchen.

Needless to say, there was peanut butter and oil on everything within a 12 foot radius of the operation, namely me, the counter, the toaster, the wall (cinder block with all those happy little holes and crevices), the floor, the grout on the floor, the cupboards, the fridge, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.

After a stunned silence in which I did not swear, I looked over at Calvin and T-man, who were looking at me. Calvin said, ” Mom, why did you do that?” he then turned his attention back to his lunch and his friend.