I love peanut butter, the movies, Saturday morning, turning the pages of a book, being in a new city for the first time, and Milk Duds.
When you’re little you always hear that you shouldn’t say you “love” anything because love is reserved for people and that is true, but I use it anyway.
There are so many different kinds of love that a lifetime produces, so why not allow some love for the peanut butter, as long as it doesn’t out do the love for the children, the family, I think there’s room for all of it.
Isn’t that the issue? When one love conflicts with another? That’s where the problem lies and decisions have to be made. If the peanut butter, the thoughts of the peanut butter, start to interfere with the rest of the life, the other loves.
It’s hard because sometimes the peanut butter is all you think about. You convince yourself that you need it, and maybe you really do. When it’s not there it leaves a hole in your life that can only be filled with more peanut butter. You can try using something else, turning to other loves in your life, but they don’t work.
You need the peanut butter. Need…such a frightening word for me. I’m not a fan of needing anything, but I suppose we all eventually need.
I’ve always cared about peanut butter, but recently especially with the whole grinding it myself at Whole Foods it’s really turned into a kind of love. I don’t think it’s going away, but Saturday mornings are great too so it’s important to leave enough room.
The down side to loving peanut butter is two fold. A lot of people love it, so it’s never really just yours, it never will be because peanut butter certainly doesn’t need you. Also, a lot of time is spent at the gym burning off the frustrating side effects of peanut butter. It’s work, but I love it anyway, always will.
My thoughts from the laundry room. Love Late Night.