Every person in this house likes PB a lot,
But one, one especially, loves it and not
Just for breakfast. She loves it on crackers, on bananas so much,
She eats it by spoon, on bread and muffins and such.
For years she bought Jif in the four-pound tub,
Until one day, they had none, and there was the rub.
The store wanted to sell its own brand, it seemed,
Only the small jars of Jif were now deemed
The thing they would stock. “I know what we’ll do,”
The store managers said. “We’ll keep just a few
Jars of Jif on hand,
But if they want more, they’ll buy our brand!”
The one who loved peanut butter so much was sad,
And the one who loved her wanted to help so bad.
“Can you just buy the small jars?” she asked, though she knew.
“It’s just not the same,” said the other. “I go through
them too fast.” This was a dilemma she’d not had before.
So she thunk and she thunk till her thunker was sore.
Then she had a thought she hadn’t thought of before.
“Maybe peanut butter,” she thought, “doesn’t have to come from a store.”
So she opened her laptop and held her breath.
There! There they were! Her hopes weren’t dead!
The internet had Jif. They had Jif galore!
She didn’t have to buy from a store!
She ordered not one, not even two tubs of Jif.
“What if they run out? What if they get lost? What if…”
She decided this was serious. Too serious to gamble.
She ordered four tubs. And prepared a preamble.
“Are you happy?” her partner asked. “Yes, yes I am.”
The first tub torn open, the spoon in her hand,
She cradled her peanut butter and sighed a deep sigh.
Peanut butter, she now knew, could come from the sky.