You already know how much I love peanut butter, but even better is peanut butter and chocolate. Right now, in fact, I’m drinking my tea out of a Reese’s mug my parents bought me at the Hershey store in Las Vegas. That’s how much I love peanut butter and chocolate.

Ice cream was on sale at the grocery store last week, so I bought a tub of chocolate with peanut butter cups. It promised me “a ribbon of peanut butter,” but it was more like a thread, and all at the bottom. I actually added spoonfuls of my own peanut butter and let it freeze. A lesson in getting what you paid for.

I was redeemed this Easter weekend, though, because my mom bought Reese’s and Oh Henry eggs. Conversation wound around sweets. My dad admitted he had a Dairy Queen Blizzard last week, his guilty pleasure. I was reminded how much I love DQ’s Peanut Buster Parfait. We all confessed we don’t much care for Smarties (the Canadian chocolate ones). There was apple and blueberry pie with whipped cream for dessert.

But I don’t have a sweet tooth like I used to. We always had ice cream in the house. My mom baked bars, cookies, muffins. Pop was not a regular drink at home, but when we ate at restaurants, I drank root beer. I gave it up 10 years ago, and now my body can’t handle it. My cravings are for salty snacks. My body wants potato chips, popcorn, french fries. (Add a pinch of salt to the beans when you make coffee. You’re welcome.)

The other day, as I paid my bill at the restaurant counter, the waitress offered a piece of candy from the dish beside the register. I looked. They were hard candies in twisted cellophane and multi-coloured lollipops. I declined. I like a little salt with my sugar.