HOW PEANUT BUTTER SAVED MY LIFE
The year was 1974. I was 6 ½ years old and my brother Simon was 4. We were staying at my aunt and uncle’s house in Coral Gables to visit Disney World and the Everglades. Disney World was great back then because all it had were the Teacups, It’s A Small World, the Haunted House, and a train around the park. Nothing modern and confusing. My mom bought us Davy Crockett racoon hats to wear on the train. I miss that hat.
My uncle lent my dad his Chevy wagon, with vinyl seats that you’d stick to, and off we went to visit the Everglades. We drove around in 90-degree heat and 80% humidity and saw land crabs crossing the road. I liked them but they sort of disturbed me, but I didn’t tell anyone that (until now). My folks found picnic tables in an Everglades Municipal Park next to a brackish lagoon, but not before having gotten into a classic over-heated, tired, hungry parents argument. To not have to break off from this escalating verbal joust, and before putting out the “real picnic”, my mom quickly made us peanut butter sandwiches to walk off with and eat on our own. But these were not PB and J’s, these were just PB’s! And tons of PB! As much PB as a prickly distracted mom could pile onto a piece of bread without even looking.
Simon and I wandered off to the edge of the lagoon in our matching orange and tan striped velour shorts-N-tank top sets to chew on our peanut butter sandwiches together, as brothers. A big alligator came swimming up to the shore. He got really close to us. His front paws were still in the water but his belly was just at water level so you can imagine that he was damn close. We thought this was hilarious and started giggling and talking to him.
He took a waddle towards Simon. Simon drew his little 4-year-old arm back under-hand and lobbed his PB sandwich in an arc towards the gator. The gator caught the sandwich in mid-air. Amazing! Then it got stuck in his throat! The whole thing. PB and white bread! There’s nothing you can do. It won’t go down. It won’t go up. He started choking. Snout pointing straight up to the sky and convulsing chokes lifting his front paws up and down and clear out of the muddy water. He was splashing, choking, and I think crying. We were laughing and squealing with excitement . . . and all this hullabaloo must have caught my parent’s attention . . .
The next thing I knew my dad was shouting and sprinting towards us. He was all red and looked kind of crazy. He scooped me up under one arm and my brother under the other and charged back up to the picnic table. My mom was crying because we’d almost gotten eaten and it would all have been her fault, and my dad was going on about reptiles and safety and “the basics”, and the alligator himself choked away for a while then lower his head and swam back off in a zig-zag pattern and disappeared.
And that’s how Peanut Butter saved my life. Without it stuck in his craw that damn thing would have eaten us for sure!
