I used to like peanut butter. A lot.

I liked it with jelly, honey, marshmallow fluff, bananas, raisins…even with dill pickles or tuna. I ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches grilled in garlic butter – don’t knock it until you try it.

My love of peanut butter could have resulted in a really bad Dr. Seuss-type story: “I would eat it with a fox, in a box, wrapped in socks….” you know the story I mean.

When my son was in grade school, I had an assignment to make peanut butter/tortilla roll-ups as a snack for about 120 kids – this was back in the days before peanut butter allergies made peanut butter a no-no for kids’ snacks.

I worked hard on the snacks, spread the peanut butter, rolled them up neatly, and tied them with fruit leather to look like scrolls. All identical. All smelling of peanut butter.

Peanut butter – It is a smell I have not been able to stand since that long day of snack preparation. I would like to like it again – it’s an easy sandwich to make for lunch – but the smell makes me feel sick.

It’s funny how things you once loved can become detestable. “I would not eat it in the rain, on a bus or on a train. I hate it now, I can’t explain.”

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