On Peanut Butter

She rummaged through the cupboard looking for what bread I had left and the commercial sized jar of peanut butter that between she and I might last a few weeks. “If you could have an unlimited supply of only one thing, while stranded in the desert, what would it be?” She asked. She smiled but didn't look up from her culinary artwork.

“I don’t know.” I paused for a second, “probably water.” I was far more concerned with how she would answer the same question.

        “What about you?”

“Peanut butter.” She smiled.

“Ohh really.” I rolled my eyes so hard it was probably audible.

“Yes! Think about it; peanut butter is, like, the perfect combination of nutrients. You could live off it forever!”

“Your mouth would get all sticky! What would you drink?” I had to ask.

“What? I’m pretty sure most food is seventy percent water anyway; you wouldn't need to drink anything as long as you had some kind of food.”

“Point duly noted.” I took a bite of her sandwich. “Wha’ a’out shel’er?”

She would definitely have needed water.

“What was that?” She giggled. She knew exactly what I had said, but she need to retaliate against my imposing realism on her fantasy. I smiled with chubby cheeks and swallowed.

“Shelter. You'll need shelter.”

“I can build something out of the empty jars.” She said enthusiastically.

She'd obviously thought this over.  

“Anything you build on sand would have no foundation; it’d blow away.” 

“No, not if I le’e ‘he jar’s ‘alf full.”

“Okay, fine.” It was getting harder not to laugh, but I knew if I laughed first I’d have lost the game. “But really, that wouldn't work.”

“Of course it would, have you ever been stranded in the desert with nothing but peanut butter? Unless you have some alternate life, and I don't think you do, how could you possibly know that?” All of her words came out without a single breath between them. “Besides, the peanut butter would make good protection from the sun.”

Right.

“So, you're plan is to live in a peanut butter jar fortress, slathered in peanut butter to protect you from the sun, and eat nothing but peanut butter?” I paused. “You realize that if you're covered in peanut butter you're probably going to get sand in every single crevice on your body. Last I checked, that’s not really great for ladies. Just sayin’.”

“At least I don’t drink pickle juice.” She said with fake sobriety. 

“That has nothing to do with this!” I laughed, and she swatted for my hands which I had thrown up in defeat.