My son has recently discovered chocolate-flavored ambrosia called Nutella. His old flame, peanut butter doesn't stand a chance.
You could say he has a picky palette. He can't have two favorite
foods at the same time. It's as though his body can't accept so many
different foods at one time.
There was a time, long ago, when my son would eat a peanut butter and
grape jelly sandwich, blissfully unaware that one day I would make him a
peanut butter and strawberry jelly sandwich. Then he would encounter
something so vile that he would no longer eat jelly. That something?... a
From that time forward, he has eaten only peanut butter, only on
honey wheat bread; no jelly. At some point, he decided that the crust
was the best part of the bread. It took quite a bit of mom-inspired
harassment to get him to eat a piece of bread that wasn't crust. After
all, there are only two pieces of bread in a loaf that would qualify for
his strangely restricted palette and they are at opposite ends of the
Our bread loaves always looked like a train-wreck.
After years of eating only plain peanut butter sandwiches, my son was
set in his ways, or "way" in his case... If only he had ways.
One year he went through a short-lived FlufferNutter phase, but
ultimately decided that nothing could top his beloved peanut butter,
Then, one day, two weeks ago, something rocked his well-ordered,
peculiar world. I was grocery shopping and noticed something that looked
like a melted chocolate bar in a jar. I had not eaten before I went
shopping. That was a mistake.
Melted chocolate in a jar? I couldn't think of a single reason not to
buy it. As if by magic, and without my committed consent, it jumped
into my cart.
I dreamed about how it would taste on a piece of raisin bread when I brought it home.
I have gone back to that store three times in the past two weeks just
to buy a jar of sinfulness. During these two weeks, I have only managed
to snag one piece of chocolate raisin bread. I keep buying more with
the hope that one jar will last long enough to have another. I don't
know how my son eats the whole jar so fast! Especially without crust!
I have come to the conclusion that, since my son hit puberty, he has
turned into an alien. I have no real proof, because I have not seen it,
but I believe his tongue is actually a proboscis that he sticks into the
jar. Then he inhales it all in one gulp. What other explanation can
My son and I went to the grocery store together to buy the last jar
of yummy-ness. As usual, the Nutella jumped in to the cart while I
In the same aisle, the display of peanut butter was huge. It waited
for my son to choose one. His world had been turned upside down. He
realized that his old peanut butter could never make him feel like he
feels with Nutella.
For old time's sake, and perhaps hoping it would make a rebound, he
chose a "whipped" peanut butter rather than his normal "creamy."
I recognized this as a last-ditch effort to save the relationship, but I don't think it'll ever be the same again.
Laura Snyder is a nationally syndicated columnist, author & speaker. You can reach Laura at email@example.com Or visit her website www.lauraonlife.com for more info.