Today’s Throwback Thursday is a post I made in May, 2008
Peanut Butter Will Be The Death Of Me
The past few days my diet has been great and I’ve been getting good exercise by walking. I was looking forward to getting on the scale in a couple of days knowing that I had dropped 50 pounds in the past week. I would be a He-Man, kicking sand in the other guys faces. (Go ask you’re parents. They’ll know what I’m talking about).
Among the many oddities about me is that I was born without a sense of smell. People have waved everything from perfume to poop under my nose and I can’t smell a thing. There’s a medical term for it, but that’s for another time. The point is that I have a sense of taste, however, taste and smell are hugely linked. As a result, my sense of taste is greatly diminished. It’s one of the reasons I hate steak. To you it may be delicious, but to me it’s just like gnawing leather since I can’t really taste it. Fortunately,most of the exceptions to my diminished taste are healthy fruits and some vegetables.
I have one deadly enemy, though…..peanut butter. It’s the devil in a jar. There’s nothing in my life I can taste so well. It’s so delicious to me I can imagine how good it smells. I picture myself in ancient Greece being fanned by palms while being spoon fed vase after vase of it’s creamy goodness. It’s sex in a jar. I love peanut butter almost more than life itself. I think you get the idea. But,do you know how much fat is in peanut butter? If you don’t and you like the stuff, NEVER EVER look at the label.
So today, I enjoyed a healthy breakfast and a healthy lunch. Mid-afternoon hit and I grabbed a handful of carrots (another one of my great pleasures), but then I could almost feel an energy mystically taking my hand and opening the pantry. There it sat like the Holy Grail singing a seductive song…Ok, I’ll spare the visualizations. I opened the lid and ate spoonfuls of the damn stuff. Up until today I haven’t restricted anything that Maurice could have in the house. He shouldn’t be punished by my lack of willpower. Sorry, my love, BUT we now have one major exception. The deadly stuff doesn’t come across our threshold ever again. Goodbye PB&J, I’ll miss you.