I readily admit
that there are a lot of things in this life I don’t know about, and when it
comes to “rulers of the darkness of this world” and “spiritual wickedness in
high places,” to quote Ephesians 6, one must exercise particular caution before
making a judgment. But of this I am most
assured: Satan entered my house last night in the form of peanut butter. I Scheiß
you not, my friend! I’m not entirely
sure if the devil assumed the shape of peanut butter or was simply inside the
jar of peanut butter in some fashion or another. And
if he did assume the shape, did he merely
give the appearance of peanut butter or did he somehow become one with the
peanut butter. I’ll let theologians and
demonologists quibble over Satan’s presence, whether his essence was
consubstantial with the peanuts and oil or whether it was occupying a particular
space.
How do I
know Satan was here, you ask? Exhibit A:
Satan is called the tempter in the Bible, and that jar of peanut butter tempted
me beyond what I could bear. Just like
when he tempted Jesus to rule the kingdoms of the world, so the devil enticed
me with that extra crunchy delight after struggling for weeks so diligently
with my vegan diet. Exhibit B: The Bible
says that Lucifer can appear as an angel of light. I easily spotted that jar of peanut butter when
I got home from work late last night, around 1:00 or so, because it was on the
kitchen counter right under the stove hood light that my daughter must
have left on. Let me tell you, it shone
like a beacon in the darkness, and I just couldn’t resist. The Great Deceiver had me right where he wanted me. I was a moth drawn to the light, a helpless insect
caught in the spider’s lair. Satan’s
minions in the form of saltine crackers also had a role to play in this most
sinister conspiracy hatched within the confines of hell and unleashed in the
witching hour. Those demons joined their dark master to taunt me with the pleasures of the world.
We have a small laundry
room in our basement and I used to tell my children it was the “red
room,” like the freaky, evil storage space in Amityville Horror. I don’t
joke about stuff like that anymore, for I have seen evil incarnate in this
house: peanut butter and crackers. I tried to slay the fiend and his minions with a glass of nonfat milk, or at least lessen the effect of his black wiles upon me; but it was no use. The damage was done: I saw evidence of the devil's handiwork as I stood naked from the waist up in front of the mirror this morning.
