JIF

November 1, 2010

“Choosy moms choose JIF”

Warm and inviting music is playing.  An acoustic guitar plays a cheerful tune.  It is morning around 7-8 AM in an average kitchen.  The kitchen appears to belong to a family that is likely upper-middle class in a suburb.  The walls are painted white and a cheerful shade of yellow.
Everything feels sentimental and pleasant.
A young boy, who appears to be kinder-garden age, with light brown hair is placing a slice of bread on another finishing off his peanut butter sandwich.  He is wearing a red and white plaid shirt.  He looks very content with what he has done.  He puts the bright read lid back on the jar of JIF peanut butter on the counter.
The focus moved from the jar and onto his mother.  “Hey, you made your own lunch!” says the fairly young mother.  She is blond and wearing a bright blue cardigan with a baby blue blouse underneath.  She is most likely in her early thirties.  The look on her face shows that she is very happy that her son can put peanut butter in between 2 pieces of wonder bread.
“Yep.”  says the young boy with a smile on his face.
“Hehe. I’m so proud of you!”
The boy struggles of bit to fit his fresh sand which into a brown paper bag.  The bag rustles and crinkles as the small hands try to fit the sand which safely into the bag.
“BEEP BEEP” you can hear the sounds of the bus that has just arrived in front of the suburban house.  The mother smiles showing her teeth.
“The bus is here; gotta go mom.”  Says the boy as he puts his large blue and black backpack on his back.  He gives a shrug so it lays comfortably on his back.
As he walks away, his mother lovingly strokes the back of his head.  Rustling his hair and caressing the back of his neck.
“OK honey have a great day.”  she says after gently scrunching the hair on the back of his neck.
Before leaving the house the boy turns around.
“Look in your bag; made you something.” he disappears through a white door way.  As the mother picks up the bag to see whats inside the voice of an older women says…
“It’s more then just that great peanut taste; Choosing JIF is a simple way to show someone…”
The mother reaches over to a crumpled brown paper bag.  The front of the bag reads “MOM” written sloppily with a red crayon.  She opens the bag, “How much you care…”
The proud smile slowly fades from the mothers face.  Her face begins to lose color and she becomes ghostly pale.  Her features become warped and reflects shock and horror and her eyes widen in terror.  The bag begins to shake she her entire body begins to quiver.  She is paralyzed and cannot make a sound.  Her eyes stare intensely upon what is in the bag.  She cannot unfix her eyes off of the bags contents.
The boy, who is now approaching the bus, is smiling.  It is a beautiful, sunny morning.  He looks satisfied with the mornings events and the fact that he can assemble a sand which.  He cheerfully wobbles side to side as he walks which is most likely because of his large backpack.   His mothers images can be seen behind him through the window.
Muffled screams of horror can be heard coming from the house in the distance.  The women screams bloody murder with the paper bag still in hand.  Her hands are clenched too tightly around the bag and she cannot drop it.
The boy happily waves to his mother who is standing by a window in the kitchen.  He picks up the pace and runs a few steps to the bus.  A turns around one last time to wave to his mother again.  He fixes his hair with the hand that was doing the spastic waving.  She is still screaming with the same intensity as when she first opened that bag.  He turns around and runs up the stairs of the bus.
“Choosy moms choose JIF.”
The screams continue until everything fades to black.