It ought to go in the recycling. Hmm.
And your conscience would never let you just chuck it. But you don’t want to clog your sink nor your plumbing with the last dregs of that natural, no-hydrogenated-anything-added almond or peanut butter. And you really don’t want to wait for the warm water on a cold day nor to muck up your hand and on down your arm by going into that thing trying to scrub it out (and then yourself). The thing is just plain messy.
To the tune of “You make me feel like a natural woman,” take it outside to a spot where the glass won’t likely get broken with it rolling around.
Ooh, smell those nuts! Where ARE they?
I counted six black squirrels a few minutes later, a record. I got to watch fluffytail breakdancing moves: extreme lust mixed with a terrible fear of an unknown object that might pounce on them if they got too close.
I dunno, guys… Stop! Go back! I’ll handle this! *Sniff* leap! *sniff* tremble *sniff*
Hang on, I’m going in!!
And so we had bottled squirrel going on this morning, only the fluff of the tail showing out the top, just enough for the next squirrel to sneak up from behind and make it known it wanted a turn. EeeYOW! HEY!
My friend Karen was going, And you didn’t Youtube that?!
Okay, that’s a challenge. So I ask you. Just what could I do to the next bottle, now that they’ve gotten used to that one, to get that same kind of a reaction out of them? What kind of a squirrel toy would you set up?
(Oh, and, yes the jar is licked clean as expected: all except just inside the curve of the rim below the top. Couldn’t quiiiiite… But judging by the smears between their ears, they tried, clearly, they tried.)