Peanut Butter Cups? I want one!
Posted by Tim Sat, 22 Jul 2006 15:50:00 GMT
A young boy, seven years old, stands in a warm garage on a sunny day during summer vacation. He has just finished the first of two Reese’s peanut butter cups. “Gosh, I really, really like these. I sure like it when I go to the store and Dad lets me pick something out at the checkout line.” His preferred method for consuming the cups was in two big bites. Something about lots of peanut butter at once was much better than just a little at a time.
With his eyes on the second and final peanut butter cup, his younger sister enters the garage. Seeing the chocolaty peanut butter goodness, she knows she wants one as well, and she isn’t afraid to ask nicely. “Maybe,” comes the response. This is a younger sister we’re talking about, and they don’t understand “no” or the many shades of “no,” and thus she continues asking, sometimes whining for what seems like forever as the boy contemplates.
“She’s my sister, and she asked nicely, I should really share” went through his mind in several variations. Every shoulder top angel has a shoulder top devil sitting on the opposite side of the head, and this particular shoulder top devil was saying “hey! It is rightfully YOUR peanut butter cup, why are you even thinking about sharing it? It’s so gooey and good, to share would be tragic.”
Eventually kindness won out, and the sister made a mess of munching on her treat. It was bittersweet for the boy, but for different reasons than you may imagine. He felt really good about sharing and seeing his sister happy. Strangely, he didn’t miss the taste of the candy, but instead his bitter feeling grew from guilt. To share was obviously the easy and right thing to do, but he took a nontrivial amount of time deciding to follow through with sharing.
Since that day there has been no shortage of peanut butter cups, and I have even eaten massive quarter pound peanut butter cups on two occasions. I wasn’t pondering giving up the last peanut butter cup ever. Even if I was, wouldn’t it be all the more appropriate to share? Ironically, now Jenny shakes her fist and scowls when I bring home a bag of peanut butter cups. Age and a gym membership have greatly changed her perspective.
This post comes about after reading a used and very inexpensive copy of Grow Your Personal Capital. There is an exercise in which the reader is asked to chronicle his or her memories and pull the meaning and significance from those memories. Without even sitting down to do the exercise, this memory and several others came to the surface of my mind. My subconscious is reminding me to share. Can I share something, time, skill, experience, with you? I’ll even share chocolate if you’re in the neighborhood. Jenny will agree that we have more than enough to go around.
My contact information is available. Ask away!
