Take 3: by @inchbyinch68
Q: You know I’m right. The risk of contamination is much less if you store the peanut butter in the fridge after it’s been opened.
C: That is ridiculous. Peanut butter doesn’t spread when it is cold.
Q: You should be getting all natural, anyway, not that processed crap. The natural is much better for Frannie.
C: Again with the speadability issue.
Q: And have you read the latest recommendations about introducing peanuts to the diets of young children? The timing is critical if you want to minimize the risk of life-threatening allergies.
C: Wait a minute. Why have you been reading about factors that influence food allergies in young children?
Q: Have you considered almond butter or sunbutter? I mean, this is Brooklyn for fuck’s sake.
C: This whole argument is ludicrous. Half the readers are international and don’t even eat peanut butter, much less have an opinion on the finer details of peanut butter brands or storage.
Q: I know! You’ve got British tea, we should be raising Frannie to be a citizen of the world.
Q: You and I have lived all over Europe and the Middle East. We should introduce Fran to more international foods, like marmite, vegemite and Nutella.
C: Well, Nutella, of course, but marmite and vegemite are disgusting.
Q: My point exactly. You don’t even eat Indian food. We have to introduce these things to Frannie before she is old enough to know better, so that she’ll appreciate global cuisine.
C: Hmm. I bet you’ve never eaten peanut butter from the fridge in your life. You are just overly worried about Frannie.
Q: Hey, I happen to know from experience that the world can be a dangerous place. I don’t want her to suffer. Not from rotovirus. Not from allergies. Not from fucking terrorists with their insensitively located gas chambers.
C: It’s actually really sexy.
Q: What?! Exessive worrying, or the hobo look?
C: Your concern for Frannie. I hadn’t realized how much you think about her.
Q: Carrie, she’s your kid. I think about her all the time.
C: I mean it. I feel so alone sometimes, trying to make every right decision for her, even which brand of fucking peanut butter to buy.
Q: Hey…I’m really in awe of how you’ve become such a caring mother.
Q: Yeah. I should tell you more often instead of criticizing your peanut butter.
C: I should tell you how impressed I am with your determination to keep trying again and again. It’s fucking amazing.
C: Yeah. It’s a shame we suck at telling each other these things.
Q: Maybe we just need to figure out some less verbal ways of communicating our feelings. C’mere.
Q: God, Carrie, I wish I could lift you into my arms and carry you up the stairs.
C: You know, you carried me in you arms after knocking me out back in Berlin. So, we’ve done that. This is better.