Dear Peanut Butter-
It's not you, it's me.
I'm not sure what happened to us. We used to enjoy eachother's company. I've never been a "I can't get enough peanut butter" kind of person, but we've always gotten along just fine.
Something happened. Over the years, you've just lost something. Slowly, you and I have just drifted apart. Remember when I used to put a normal amount of you on my PBJ's? And then that amount got thinner and thinner as the years passed, when finally the bread would just show right through you as I spread you on with my favorite freezer jam. I would almost gag if I watched my husband make a PBJ. He lays you on so thick, I'm amazed he coul speak the rest of the day after he ate those sandwiches.
At first it was just the thinning of the "PB" in my PBJ. Next was the Reese's Peanut Butter cups. And somewhere between the Reese's and last night's Peanut Butter Bar order that I had to fill, we've become nothing short of enemies. You assault all my senses... smell, sight, taste... even touch. So far, you've stayed away from hearing, but I know you'll find a way to ruin that too.
I want to be friends with you! Can't we still be friends? It would be so much easier to be around you!
Can't you just make yourself smell good to me again? Or, make it so that when I find little remnants of you in the jelly or the butter (because my kids don't understand the strength of my aversion toward you!) I don't go ballistic?
I'm so sorry that it's come to this. Perhaps, when my hormones level off in a few months, we can find some sort of happy medium. Perhaps.
No longer yours,