Ode to PB&J

Ah, there's something refreshing about all the food I used to consume as a child. Reverting back to the days of PB&J, mac n' cheese, Granny Smith apples and chocolate milk (pretty much all the foods I ate in kindergarten) somehow brings on a type of nostalgia unrecognizable anywhere else.
Hence, the ode to PB&J.

Ode to PB&J

PB&J

What can I say?

I love you,

Like I love my left foot.

(And I love Edna a lot.)

Turkey, shmurkey.

Who knows what goes on with those?

One of those grown-up 'wiches will never pass my lips.

I want to keep you around forever, PB&J,

Even if you are only popular with nerds.

I'll be a nerd,

Only if I can savor your creamy legume-ness

Mixed with the sweet smell of artificial berries

And the soggy twist of Wonder bread.

Ah, and your cousin,

Mac.

Mac Cheese.

I love him.

I doodled on my notebooks "Mrs. Cheese."

Now, Miss Teacher is in a freeze.

She sees where I write Mrs. Cheese

And says, "Maxine, erase that at once, Mac is mine!"

No! Mac, don't leave me.

I'll have to resort to pesto pasta.

"Ew," as everyone would agree.

Granny Smith is the second-best.

(The apple, that is.)

Not Grammie, the white-haired wrinkly lady who knits too-big sweaters.

(She pinches my cheeks until they just need a rest.)

Oh, and choco milk, choco choco milk!

I think of you before I fall asleep at night.

You are the drink of my dreams.

"Choco milk all around but not a drop to drink"

Is my worst nightmare.

So, foods in my fantasies, stay with me.

Don't venture off my [breakfast, lunch and] dinner plates.

(Until first grade, that is.)