Running Hot Water Over A Used Peanut Butter Knife Is One Of The Most Nauseating Things On Earth
This morning as I prepared to do my morning routine “Lady In Red” by Chris de Burgh played through my iPhone speaker at a completely reasonable volume. My new Cuisinart coffee machine whirred and sputtered as it delivered it’s last few drops of filtered water into the pot below, and I contemplated what I would like to make myself for breakfast. When I’m alone in my home for extended periods of time strange things happen. I’ll walk around naked. I’ll accidentally pull up Twitter on my laptop while scrolling Twitter on my phone. And obviously I’ll begin talking to myself. And there’s no greater time to be muttering absolute nonsense to yourself than during the breakfast hour, when you’re still coming out of REM and the world is still a bit foggy.
“How about some frosted mini wheats?” I said in a conversational tone to myself. “Heavens, no! You inexplicably had a bowl of those last night. Can’t be doing that again.”
“Whatabout some eggies for Johnny?” I once again said out loud to absolutely no one. I know this is weird. But I know there are others out there reading this that have conversations with themselves when no one is around. It’s not schizophrenic. It’s just what people do when they’re alone. But I didn’t feel like preparing myself eggs this morning. And so finally, after a solid five minutes of strange, perhaps even creepy dialogue with myself, I settled on peanut butter toast.
I love the taste of peanut butter. When you get a few slices of hot toast and spread some creamy JIF across the surface, it’s damn near orgasmic to watch the PB just melt off the sides of the bread and onto the plate just a few centimeters below. There is a problem with peanut butter, though. You didn’t think I’d write a blog and not have an issue about the topic at hand, did you? Peanut butter smells. It’s not a bad smell but I wouldn’t go so far as to say it is a good smell either. It’s just a smell and you know it when it hits your nostrils. I’ve got a sensitive snout. I’m like a basset hound in that way. If I sense even the slightest hint of an unsatisfactory smell in my apartment or in my car I’ll stop whatever it is I’m doing and dive into a deep clean to figure out where that smell is coming from and how to get rid of it.
This will sound odd, but peanut butter on toast smells different than it does on a knife. On toast, it’s a pleasant smell that lightly hits the nose. On a metal knife, peanut butter is offensive and loathsome, and it only get worse when you discard that thing into the sink to clean later. You can try all you want to clean a peanut butter knife off with your tongue but you will never fully succeed. There will always be pb residue on a metal knife after use, and when you turn that faucet on and get it to a temperature just below scalding hot in your kitchen sink, that’s when the smell of that peanut butter gets really bad. The fumes from the pb knife waft upwards hitting your face like a wave crashing down onto shore and there is nothing that you can do except pray to God that the water will wash away the remnants quickly.
The used peanut butter knife is one of the most offensive smelling items on God’s green earth. It always takes a few seconds for the knife to be completely washed clean of pb remnants, too. Those seconds feel like hours. It grosses me out and you’ll never be able to change my mind on this subject. For those wondering, though - my peanut butter toast was delicious.