Because I had a migraine brewing, I wanted to complete a chore that would make me feel productive, yet would not be terribly taxing. I opted to clean out the pantries (the smaller one near the stove, and the larger cupboard-under-the-stairs) and spice drawer in the kitchen: threw away things that were expired, wiped down the shelves, rearranged the remaining items so that we could better see what we have. It was satisfying.
I was doing well until the end, when I was checking dates on items in the cupboard-under-the-stairs. There was a jar of peanut butter in there. Creamy peanut butter, because Offspring the Third prefers the smooth texture and I (preferring crunchy peanut butter) do not eat peanut butter any longer since peanuts make me itch. I was reminded about how my Daddy likes to have an apple with peanut butter as part of his lunch, except he likes crunchy peanut butter, too.
Perhaps it was the incipient migraine. Perhaps it was the thought that there are only so many crunchy peanut butter-and-apple meals left in the world for my Daddy. Either way, I found myself with a lump in my throat. And now I am just... sad.
Enjoy your lunches, Daddy, for as long as you can.
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