Nutterbutter Junkie
I have a confession to make – I am a full blown peanut butter addict.
Peanut butter is one of those foods I trick myself into believing is healthy for me (and for those who are not binge monsters it is) but then I abuse it to the point where I can no longer look myself in the mirror.
I hit rock bottom a few weeks ago after an extended peanut butter and whole wheat pita binge while watching “The Real Housewives of Orange County.” It may have been the anxiety of watching that show – the people on this show are so foolish I sometimes feel embarrassed for them, but I can’t turn away. I packed up all my peanut butter, 2 full and 1 half eaten jars of it, and brought it to my mother’s house explaining that I could not longer be trusted around its nutty goodness.
Last week I was visiting my mother and noticed she had the peanut butter on full display on the counter. I figured this was a ploy to shame me as she did when I was 16 and her and my dad found a joint in my coat pocket. They put it on a paper plate on the kitchen table for all who saw it to inquire about so I would have to tell them my big, dark, pot smoking secret. Most of these visitors were friends of mine and my brother so it did not have the effect they intended it to have, although my dad did threaten to invite the pastor over for tea.
Where was I? Oh, peanut butter. So I ask my mother what gives with my Peter Pan and she says:
“Oh, I forgot to tell you....wow, um, how have you been feeling?”
I went to check the bar codes on the Peter Pan and was quite shocked that the first three digits were 2111.
What are the frigin chances?
I tried to think back to that fateful night when I pretended to give up peanut butter forever - but I didn’t remember feeling like shit, or shall I say worse than normal - and if I did I guess I would have probably guessed it was god punishing me for worrying about eating too much peanut butter when there are starving people in the world. I should be lucky to be given the opportunity to contract salmonella poisoning, that's more than some folks get.
Is it Friday yet?
Peanut butter is one of those foods I trick myself into believing is healthy for me (and for those who are not binge monsters it is) but then I abuse it to the point where I can no longer look myself in the mirror.
I hit rock bottom a few weeks ago after an extended peanut butter and whole wheat pita binge while watching “The Real Housewives of Orange County.” It may have been the anxiety of watching that show – the people on this show are so foolish I sometimes feel embarrassed for them, but I can’t turn away. I packed up all my peanut butter, 2 full and 1 half eaten jars of it, and brought it to my mother’s house explaining that I could not longer be trusted around its nutty goodness.
Last week I was visiting my mother and noticed she had the peanut butter on full display on the counter. I figured this was a ploy to shame me as she did when I was 16 and her and my dad found a joint in my coat pocket. They put it on a paper plate on the kitchen table for all who saw it to inquire about so I would have to tell them my big, dark, pot smoking secret. Most of these visitors were friends of mine and my brother so it did not have the effect they intended it to have, although my dad did threaten to invite the pastor over for tea.
Where was I? Oh, peanut butter. So I ask my mother what gives with my Peter Pan and she says:
“Oh, I forgot to tell you....wow, um, how have you been feeling?”
I went to check the bar codes on the Peter Pan and was quite shocked that the first three digits were 2111.
What are the frigin chances?
I tried to think back to that fateful night when I pretended to give up peanut butter forever - but I didn’t remember feeling like shit, or shall I say worse than normal - and if I did I guess I would have probably guessed it was god punishing me for worrying about eating too much peanut butter when there are starving people in the world. I should be lucky to be given the opportunity to contract salmonella poisoning, that's more than some folks get.
Is it Friday yet?
Labels: Boston News, Family
posted by Betty Blog at 6:49 AM
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