I have a very unhealthy relationship with Peanut Butter. I’m not just talking about eating too much. I’m talking about a codependency. I think about Peanut Butter throughout the day and night. And I’m fairly convinced that I have aided in bettering the sales of Skippy Natural Creamy Peanut Butter. In fact, I’m pretty sure I’m the reason they added a 3rd size to their lineup:
I wasn’t a fan growing up. In fact, I remember thinking that it stunk. And it is stinky; I can’t deny that… the smell remains on your fingers long after you’ve eaten anything with it. Here’s how I like my PB:
2 TBS in a coffee mug with Hershey’s Special Dark Chocolate Chips and a drizzle of honey. Give me a spoon and I’m set. It’s a delicacy. Don’t hate. Just try it. You’ll thank me (message me for directions on where to send the thank you jar of Skippy Natural…).
By the way, the above scenario only feels right if I’m wearing pj’s.
Every now and then, the accountability partner in my head decides it’s time to lay off for a while. The scale also begins to tip in a different direction and my jeans aren’t as friendly as they normally are. I have to call in special forces when this happens. Normal people would just stop buying it. But nothing about me has ever been normal. You’re talking to the girl whose go-to song at a karaoke bar is Digital Underground’s “The Humpty Dance”.
In these rare circumstances when I have to scale back on the PB… I have to hide it from myself. It’s the only way. I won’t buy it if I know there’s a jar in the house; and I can’t eat what I can’t find. I’m making myself vulnerable here, people!
Sometimes, my ever-loving hubby will step in and do the dirty work for me. The Peanut Butter has been hidden in the oven, dishwasher, washing machine, medicine cabinet and oatmeal meal canister. And every time… I’ve found it.
So, even with reinforcements, PB and I find our way back to each other. And the reunion is always every bit as delicious as I hoped it would be.
Ok, so maybe hiding it doesn’t really work.
What DOES work is substituting the PB habit for something else. This works with any habit. You can’t kick a habit in the bud and not have a replacement. I’ve found that wine does wonders. But then there’s that whole alcoholism risk.
Enter sugar free Cool Whip and fresh Blueberries. Same consistency… and after a while, it does the trick. It’s not the same flavor as PB and I don’t feel quite as rebellious eating it, but it is what it is, right? (Insert sad, broken, deflated trumpet tune here)
Judging by the scale today, it’s time to switch to Cool Whip… Could someone hide my PB, please?