A love story

So it's like "Letter's to Juliet" but with food. When I was three years old my mom made for me my first Peanut butter and Jelly sandwich. Awww- how cute, you might say but wait. I soon began to swell up like a puffer fish- my ears turning bright red and protruding wildly from my head. Several doses of benadryl later my mom was convinced I was allergic to Peanuts. So from the time I was 3 years old until the age of 33 I lived in mortal dread of peanut products. I did from time to time accidentally nibble a peanut butter cookie but no major episodes. I had never even tasted a peanut. At age 33, a married mother of two who regularly drooled over the fabulous smell of creamy peanut butter, I got up the courage to go get an allergy test for peanuts. I took a blood test and the results came back no reaction to peanuts at all! So I began slowly to try out all things peanut. Reese Cups are a thing of beauty, Peanut butter ice-cream pie a masterpiece and the classic PB& J, a simple pure Venus de Milo of foods.
Spanish peanuts are a daily snack these days for me. I think I will always value the lowly peanut a little more than the average person. I am glad after all these years we were reunited.