PB and Shea

My mother has come a long way. A long way in warming up to Shea. This became extremely apparent to me today when I was going through the pantry looking for  worthy snack.

Shoved, way in the back was a jar of peanut butter. This long lost jar of peanut butter was old. There are four others in the front of the pantry. Good thing peanut butter has a long shelf life, second only to Twinkies. This jar of peanut butter was different than the others though. This jar belonged to Shea. How do I know? It said so:

Now a days, Shea doesn't have his own peanut butter. He is allowed to share with the humans. To me, that signifies a huge step in my mother's feelings towards Shea. 

She has made progress in other areas as well. She pets him now. She plays with him. She feeds him her extra food. She calls him cute. She lets him sleep at the foot of her bed. She admits she likes him. One day, she even said, ever so painfully, that she did indeed love him. 

She may hate to admit it, but the peanut butter proves it all. She has lathered peanut butter onto an english muffin and then stuff peanut butter into Shea's bone for him, getting the peanut butter from the same jar. Next thing you know, she's going to let him kiss her on the face, just like this: