lulu might look a lot like her dopey dad, but her crazy lil personality is straight from her mama. like her serious addiction to peanut butter. we’re both bonafide, throw-us-in-betty-ford, full-on addicts…and it ain’t pretty…
i dunno why i ever ask stinks what she wants to eat cuz it’s always the same damn thing: “bananana (yes, with an extra “na”) and peanuh buh’er.” it doesn’t matter if it’s morning, noon or night—that’s all she f*cking wants.
but it’s getting weird. today i told her the icky cat across the street wasn’t hangin’ outside cuz it was probably eating lunch with its mama. lulu nodded like that made complete sense and said, “oh, kitty cat eat peanuh buh’er. yum yummy!”
so one day when she’s old enough (or more like never), i might tell her about the time her own mama had a bizarre experience with a jar of peanuh buh’er.
like i said, i love pb…always have. i used to give it up for lent every year (back when i still gave up things for lent), and i’d almost go nuts (no pun intended) from withdrawal. then on easter sunday i’d gorge ‘til i got sick. it was disgusting.
and when i went out, i’d usually stumble into a bodega (there’s one on every corner in nyc) late-night on the way home and pick up a jar. or steal one from a friend’s cupboard. on nights when i’d had a wee bit too much fun, i’d wake up in the morning with a jar in my purse, not really knowing how it got there. i know, it was a sickness.
so it was circa 1999 and i was living in nyc. i was just getting over a cold, so i was hopped up on some kinda medicine…plus, i’d gone out boozing. yah, that probably wasn’t the best combo, but isn’t that what you do at 27?
anyway, i woke up in the morning with a raging hangover. i de-crusted and opened my eyes to an open jar of peanut butter perched on the pillow next to me. it was some random brand i’d never seen before, and of course, i had no clue how it got there.
then i pulled back the covers…and screamed.
peanut butter was everywhere: smeared all over my sheets, my legs, feet, arms, stomach (yes, pb was the only thing i was wearing), chest, (gulp) between my legs…and the weirdest place of all: between each of my toes. then i got up and looked in horror at the mirror: it was slathered all over my neck and face, and totally matted in my hair. what. the f*ck.
so what the hell happened? i was alone the whole night, so it’s not like i had a crazy-ass fetish romp with somebody. no, not this time. it was much, much worse: i was obviously taken advantage of—by a random jar of peanut butter. and i didn’t even know its name. i just hope we were careful.
after that i was scared straight, and i steered clear of the stuff (pb not booze, duh) for a while. and i learned to control myself…for the most part. now i’m usually able to only eat a few spoonfuls (or is it spoons full?) every day. but dear god, i still love it.
but i’m afraid for stinks. every time she demands i smear peanuh buh’er on everything she eats, i flash back to that morning. i just hope i never find a jar stashed in her diaper bag.
check out this ridiculous video of lulu eating peanut butter!
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