Perfect Peanut Butter

Speaking of Brothers-in-law (see Newcomers), let me tell you about Dave, my oldest and first brother of the bunch. ( I have 5 in all. I've been collecting them for years and as of November, my collection is complete.) Anyway, back to Dave. Dave is married to my sister Robin. He is a farmer, a trucker, a antique toy collector, a tractor lover, and a history buff (WWII, particularly). Unlike any of my other BILs, Dave is a Yankee. I love all of these things about ol' Dave, but the one talent that really sets him apart is this...Dave has perfect peanut butter. How so, you ask? Well, just step into the kitchen of his old New England farmhouse any day of the week, open the kitchen cabinet and pull out the jar of Skippy. You'll notice that unlike most jars of PB, you can see through his jar down to where the peanut butter begins. That's because Dave, while indulging in a spoonful or two, has meticulously scraped all (and i mean ALL) of the PB off the side of the jar. The surface of the peanut butter is as smooth as it was the day he peeled back the seal, except the jar is half empty! I'm not kidding. He has truly perfected peanut butter storage. You almost don't want to mess it up, but at the same time, how can you resist? Perfect peanut butter begs to messed with. I voiced my delight upon opening a jar while visiting my sister a few months ago, "Wow. That's pretty amazing." My sister peeked over my shoulder into the jar and shrugged, "Oh, that's nothing. One time I opened the jar and he had carved a flower into it." Now THAT is art, my brother. Carry on.