The Wonder Years

I was a big fan of peanut butter as a kid.  But a gross part of peanut butter on white bread was the sandwich’s center, laden from having been swiped by the knife on its journey from crust to crust.  I would nibble with delight from the crust inward, lightly Jif’d, only to be repulsed by the glob that weighed down the Wonder’s heart.

Other times, when the Wonder was bare, I’d eat the crust first and then roll the squishier rest into a ball between my palms and bite into it with glee like it was a Whitman’s Sampler favorite.

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