This is what a spatula is made for…

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”  I shake my fists to the heavens in rage. 

“Mummy?”

“There is NO peanut butter!!”  It’s one of those morninigs.  You know, one of  those mornings when all you want is a certain thing for breakfast?  All I wanted was peanut butter on my toast.  And only one piece with peanut butter – I needed a tablespoon and a half of it – the other piece of toast was going to have seedless raspberry jam.  Was that too much to ask for?  Wait!  Wait! Rissa doesn’t eat peanut butter.  David would have been the last to eat it, which means he would have ‘finished’ it, which means it would… still be sitting in the sink…

“HAH!”

“Hah?” asks Rissa.

“YES!  HAH!!  All I have to do is drain the water, grab a spatula and voila!  Peanut Butter Toast!  THIS.  This is what a spatula is made for… this exact task!”

“Un-huh…”

“See??  See how much peanut butter is left?”

Rissa avoids eye contact, because that’s what you’re supposed to do with crazy people.

The spatula is the most perfect of kitchen utensils.  I pour out all the soaking water, then hold the spatula aloft like Excaliber.  A deep breath and I begin to scrape the sides of the jar.  Press down the sides, swirl around the bottom, press and swirl… “AHA!!!  Take THAT Mr. Doesn’t-know-when-a-jar’s-empty!!”

“Happy now?”

“Yes.   Yes, I am.”

You know what else a spatula is good for?  Smoothing peanut butter on your toast.