I have a coworker who occasionally brings her pet sugar glider, Lulu, to work (I work at a pretty cool company). Back when I was pregnant one of the few things that I could keep down despite all the nausea was a peanut butter sandwich. So on this particular day for lunch I was making my PB sandwich while my coworker was also getting ready to feed Lulu the sugar glider. So I asked, “Does she like peanut butter?” I was then told that she in fact LOVED peanut butter. So I held out the plastic peanut butter coated knife to Lulu who then took one whiff of the peanut butter and, I kid you not, Lulu rolled her big ol’ eyes and refused it.

Confused why Lulu refused it, my coworker took the jar away from me and smelled the peanut butter. Rancid. Apparently, somehow, I had a jar of peanut butter in my house that was close to 5 years old that I had confused with the new jar of peanut butter I had recently purchased.

Being anosmic and pregnant, I obviously didn’t smell anything wrong and just assumed the taste being only minimally different was due to the fact that I was pregnant and that everything tasted funny to me.

And so, I learned, that when Lulu the sugar glider refuses it, it’s probably gone bad.