The 70s had it right when it comes to peanut butter. But maybe not coffee.

Do you guys remember that coffee commercial from the 70s when a woman is miffed that her husband has a second cup of someone else's coffee, but not hers? "That's funny," she thinks. "Jim (or Bill or Bob or something 70s like that) never has a second cup at home."

Maybe it was Folger's? Let's just say it was.

Well, I had my own Folger's coffee moment yesterday.

Michelle, giving me a recap of her day with the kids: "Oh, I shared some of my peanut butter with them today. They loved it."

Me: "Really? All of them? They always say they don't like peanut butter. Especially Dean."

Michelle: "No, they all loved it."

Me: "Dean, you always tell me you don't like peanut butter."

Dean: "No. I just don't like the peanut butter YOU buy."

This is the moment, folks, where I decided once and for all that children will not die if there's a little bit of yummy stuff added to some of the things they eat. And I'm not a terrible parent if their lips touch sugar sometimes.

And so goodbye ultra-bitter, gritty, oily, made-in-the-woods by free-ranging squirrels peanut butter we usually buy. Hello what Michelle gave them that they actually liked: good old-fashioned Jif.

We'll buy the "natural" Jif, just to make Lester and me feel better, though. Otherwise we'll be judged right out of our Trader Joe's and Whole Foods, organic-everything loving circles.

(I joke. But only a little.)