Peanut butter, you creamy menace,
You beautiful, sticky disaster,
I open the jar with such hope
Like I am about to change my life,
Like this time I will eat you with grace and dignity.
I will not get you on my face.
I will not forget you is in my hair.
I will not end up looking like a toddler
Who has lost all grip on personal hygiene.
This time will be different.
(It is never different.)
You slide onto my bread so smooth,
So full of promise and protein,
And I think, “Yes. Today I am making good choices.”
Then I take one bite and my mouth becomes a jar,
My palate a crime scene,
My tongue screaming for water
While I stand there like a confused llama
Trying to unstick my teeth.
Why do you betray me like this?
And yet I keep coming back.
Again and again.
Like a person with no self-respect,
Which, let’s be honest, is what happens when peanut butter is involved.
Straight from the jar, you are a weapon.
A delicious, protein-packed weapon
That makes me question all my life decisions.
I tell myself I will just have one spoonful.
Twenty minutes later, I am standing at the sink
Looking like I survived a peanut butter apocalypse,
Wondering how it got behind my ear.
Behind. My. Ear.
I do not even know how that is physically possible.
And yet, there it is.
Proof of my commitment to poor decision-making.
You pair well with jelly, sure.
You are magnificent with honey.
You are the backbone of the sandwich I have eaten
Every single day for the past ten years
Because I am nothing if not loyal to my vices.
But when I eat you alone,
Directly from the source,
I transform into some sort of feral creature
Who has forgotten that napkins exist,
That mirrors exist,
That other humans might see me like this
And judge me accordingly.
(They do. I have seen their faces.)
Peanut butter, you sticky son of a gun,
I cannot quit you.
Even though you make me look ridiculous.
Even though you turn me into someone
Who cannot operate their own mouth properly.
Even though you have probably shortened my lifespan
Due to the sheer amount of it
I have consumed while standing over the sink at midnight,
Looking at nothing,
Thinking about my life choices.
You are the love of my life
And the worst decision I make repeatedly.
You are proof that we do not always make rational choices.
That sometimes we see something that will inevitably end badly
And we do it anyway.
Because it tastes good.
Because it feels right.
Because we are idiots.
So here is to you, peanut butter.
My sweet, creamy, adhesive companion.
You will forever be in my pantry.
You will forever be in my teeth.
You will forever be in places I cannot explain.
And I will forever come back for more,
Sticky-faced and unashamed,
A willing prisoner to your delicious tyranny.
I love you.
I hate what you do to me.
But mostly I love you.
Always yours,
Someone who definitely has peanut butter on their shirt right now
And has not even noticed yet.
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