The mrs had a doc appt today, so I took a half day. As I walked through the door, she darted out shortly after. My 4 and 2 yr olds were still hungry so the oldest pled his case for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I guess he decided to forfeit the canned ravoli that was prepared for him earlier. I tried to ignore his call as I stuffed my face with corn tortilla chips and this new salsa I picked up from the store (some triple pepper salsa). As I fed baby (nickname for the youngest) and myself, I wiped my hands clean on my shorts and began to prepare their sandwiches. I am very particular about peanut butter; it has to be Jiff. Choosy moms choose Jiff…well except for my wife. She is allergic to peanuts, so the poor thing has never experienced a PB&J, nor a Reese cup. Wow. In any case I made their sandwich with Jiff and strawberry Smuckers jam. Baby didn’t want his, so I split it with his brother. As I sat there and the roof of my mouth became glued, it took me back down nostalgia lane. It has been a long time since I had a PB&J. Sometimes it is the little things.