What's In My Pocket? by Jasper

Since I live in Florida, it isn’t very often that I wear a jacket. The last time I wore one because of the temperature was probably early March. Recently, the afternoon rain showers have been fairly regular. On my way out the other day, I grabbed a jacket because the rain was coming down in buckets and my umbrella was in the car. I dashed to the car but still managed to get drenched despite the jacket.

The jacket had to come off because I didn’t really feel like driving around soaking wet. As I removed the jacket, I noticed something bulky in the front pocket. “Odd,” I thought, “I don’t remember putting anything in my pocket.” As I carefully unzipped the pocket, thoughts flashed back to another surprise I discovered in the car… What’s in my pocket?

To my relief, I discovered this treasure.

Soon my relief turned to amusement as I thought about what could have happened. Every school day for breakfast, I eat a peanut butter sandwich. When all that is left in the bread bag are a single slice and the ends, I make a triple-decker peanut butter sandwich. I wrap the sandwich in a paper towel because I take it with me in the car. On this particular day, it was cool, so I wore a jacket. I must have been distracted in the car since I didn’t finish the sandwich. I probably put it in my pocket to save for later. In all likelihood, there was a crisis with a newbie teacher waiting for me when I arrived at school. As a result, I forgot about the rest of my breakfast.

Based on my calculations, the sandwich is at least 2 ½ months old. Notice that two of the slices of bread are still held together by the peanut butter. The third has begun to pull away. The bread was so stale, that it began to crumble as I unfolded the paper towel.

Despite the Florida humidity, the peanut butter had begun to dry-out. I was surprised to find the sandwich was mold-free.

When Sydney saw the sandwich, she rolled her eyes and laughed. She added, “Procrastination wins this time, Jasper.” The instant those words hit my ears, I knew she was questioning my ability to overcome my issue with putting things off to the last minute, including eating. I smiled, picked up the sandwich and started to take a bite. I could see the horror on Sydney’s face. Just then, Esmeralda strolled into the kitchen with doll in tow. She immediately stopped in her tracks, looked up at me, and said, “Daddy, yucky sandwich. No, no eat.” Esmeralda was right. The 2 ½ month old peanut butter sandwich was yucky. There was no reason to eat it. Sydney breathed a sigh of relief, and I tossed the sandwich artifact into the trash.

With the discovery of a very stale sandwich, I think it would be best if I checked all my jacket pockets, backpacks and briefcases. I seem to recall having misplaced a banana in January.