The Peanut Butter Solution

     Disclaimer: this post has little to do with the morbid and creepifying 1985 children's movie The Peanut Butter Solution, other than both use peanut butter as a major plot point.  Also, the protagonist of the film and I both have amazing hair, which may or may not be the result of ghostly specters urging me to do strange things with the foodstuffs.  (Side note: can we all agree that this movie may be both the best and worst thing to ever happen in the 80's?  I blame slash give credit to Canada.  Ya'll so crazy!)

Don't hate us because we're beautiful.

     Now, let's get down to brass tacks, shall we?  Like most autistic children, Skeletor is a picky eater.  Very picky.  Like he would probably let himself succumb to starvation before he ventured outside whatever his four food groups happen to be that year.  One of his very favorite things to eat is a peanut butter sandwich.  (No jelly!  That's lowbrow!)  So, naturally, I pack him one in his lunchbox every day.  Every.  Single.  Day.  And he usually eats his entire sandwich, has a full tum tum, and is a happy camper.  Until recently, that is.  The last few weeks, Skeletor has been bringing home a lunchbox that still contains an entirely intact peanut butter sandwich.  Nary a nibble out of the thing.  Which was pretty weird considering that he was still chowing down on the things at home.  After repeated questioning, badgering, and nagging on my part, eventually the reason came out.  My sweet, kind-hearted, adorable, precious angel baby was not eating his most favoritest of foods because his friend that sits next to him at lunch is allergic to peanuts.  Lack of empathy, huh?  Pffftttttttttttttt (phonetically spelled out, unladylike fart sound.)