A love letter to peanut butter

Image by Shawn Carpenter.

A friend of mine has a daughter with a peanut allergy. Her daughter once asked what peanut butter tasted like. My friend told her daughter that she wasn't missing much. (That's what parents sometimes do: Lie to protect our kids.) 

The reality is that peanut butter is perfect.

When I was pregnant (and more emotional than usual) I would cry at a Jif commercial in which a boy makes his mom lunch. (Don't judge me.) I remember the first pb&j I made for my son - he looked at it like it was magic. After devouring the sandwich, he asked me for another one.

Somewhere in my journey to adulthood, I started thinking of peanut butter as a kid's food. Yes, you can eat a pb&j as a single adult, but when you have one with your child you feel a bit more justified about it. It's like a parenting perk.

Now I think that people would be happier if they indulged in peanut butter more often.
There's a deli that I love which serves peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Occasionally, I will be in line behind a businessman who sees them on the menu and immediately gets happy. The deli is awesome enough to give the choice of crunchy or smooth peanut butter and a few different jelly types. I imagine that the person who orders a pb&j and then goes to a meeting is better at coping with the rest of their day.

Because of nut allergies, all forms of peanuts are banned from my son's school, so I try to make him a pb&j at least once a weekend. The last time I made him one, he told me I was the best mommy ever. Peanut butter does that. It brings people together.