by Nellie Curtiss …
Schroeder wouldn’t leave his long-haired ear alone and his head shaking got worse. I cleaned out some gunk from his cocker spaniel ear and it seemed better for few minutes.
When Dr. Deal saw him a few days later, he found swollen tonsils. He sent Schroeder home with an antibiotic and some prednisone to address the swollen tonsils. Twice a day, I fold a single slice of bread slathered with Skippy peanut butter; then pinch off a big enough chunk to slip the meds in. When I extend the miniature medicine sandwich toward his mouth, Schroeder breathes and the whole shebang is gone! Besides his peanut butter flavored DreamBones, peanut butter sandwiches are a comfort to him. Good thing, otherwise, I think administering medicine to him would be a military operation.
Even as a senior citizen, my comfort food is often PB&J sandwiches, too. I can remember my aunt crafting a lunch for our afternoon adventures by slapping Sunbeam white-bread slices with peanut butter layered with apple butter or grape jam from her pantry. Packing the lunch was for her son Jerry, me, and my little sister’s afternoon quest: rabbit hunting. It was a hot midday sun that pulled us from our scouting through the bramble bushes for a rabbit to shoot like Davy Crocket might track and shoot a bear. Amongst a bushy overhang that looked like a cave, the three of us unloaded the paper bag with four sandwiches, and apples. (Jerry had two sandwiches.) A thermos of Nestle Quick chocolate milk or Kool-Aid provided the liquid for our dry mouths. We hadn’t succeeded in taking out a rabbit, so instead of being forced to wait while Jerry skinned a hare, we scrambled for our scrumptious PB&J.
A fisherman friend once shared that he and his buddies’ go-to-meal when out fishing is white Wonder Bread sandwiches dressed up with a tablespoon of yellow mustard before sliding thick choices of bologna between the store-bought bread. Some others would add some libation, sweet tea, or soda pop, too. Potato chips would be a necessary crunch, as well. My mom used bologna and made plain sandwiches with mayonnaise, bologna, and iceberg lettuce. There’s a certain taste that bologna, mayo, and lettuce in a lunch box has when a kid unwraps that sandwich after recess. For instance, the lettuce is limp, and soggy. I remember adding Fritos corn chips on top of the lettuce to revive the crunch.
My ex, who was an avid whitetail deer hunter when he could find a friend with Texas Hill-Country acreage, outfitted his stay in a makeshift deer blind with canned Libby’s Vienna Sausage that easily snapped open, and some beef jerky to gnaw on. Whatever the snack, the noise associated with unlocking the grub had to be more silent than loud; otherwise, the deer in the gun scope would disappear.
In the classroom, some young people would snack on trail mix and M & M’s. Once a student even snuck in a Tupperware with leftovers from a pasta meal the night before. No food or drink was allowed around the computers, so the student pushed away from the keyboard as she matter-of-factly ate her snack. At a GPS mapping company during lunchroom show and tell, a colleague unlocked a whole head of broccoli and dipped bites in Hidden Valley Ranch.
Now with the newest spin off of Jurassic Park, Jurassic World Dominion, available to rent, Orville Redenbacher popcorn and oil dashed with buttery popcorn salt is the comfort food I heat and shake up in my Whirley Stovetop Popper before the movie begins and I’m jolted out of my well-worn easy chair as T-Rex screeches at the giant Spinosaurus. Never mind Schroeder; he scarfs-up whatever popcorn tumbles to the floor.
Nelda Curtiss is a retired college educator and long-time local columnist. Reach her at http://www.columnsbynellie.com or email her at columnsbynellie@gmail.com
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