Thursday, March 04, 2004

An Open Letter to The Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich

Dear PB and J,
What’s up? Nothing much here. I just wanted to thank you for basically giving me all nutrition I’ve received for the past two months. Everyone said I couldn’t go veggie, but ha! We showed them didn’t we? I swear if it wasn’t for you, I don’t know what I’d eat. I mean, cooking is like hard, you know? And nothing tastes better than some red (favor itself is meaningless) jelly and creamy Jiff on mushy wheat bread. I don’t like the kind of wheat bread that tastes like eating gravel, but now that we all know white bread makes you portly, I try to stay away.

My roommate likes to laugh at me because I have you for dinner every night. My co-worker says I eat like a 3rd grader because I have you for lunch every day. I think they’re just jealous. Especially when I wash you down with some chocolate milk. Those are some good times.

And remember when my mom used to cut the crusts off of you and pack you in my lunch box? I like to mark my step into adulthood as to when I started eating you crusts and all. But who am I kidding? Sometimes I pull the crusts off still!

On rainy days, I like to toast the bread first, and then put on the jelly and peanut butter. You know, just to mix it up. I’m crazy like that, what can I say? And I even don’t mind when I have to resort to eating the ends of the bread and making them part of my sandwich. It’s still all good.

Oh PB&J, how I love thee.