Not sure the reason, I found myself standing in the kitchen, holding the Krusteaz Belgian waffle mix box. (H- adorably calls said mix ‘sugar’.) She was finishing her waffles at the nearby table. That’s the reason! I was putting the box back on top of the refrigerator. Beside it, I also keep the cereal and–my favorite non-perishable treat–the Nutty Bars up there. Like her ol’ man, H- too had experienced love at first sight with Little Debbie’s delectable wafers.

“But you can’t give me the peanut butter and chocolate bars for snack time,” H- declared out of the blue.

I turned to look at her. She turned to look at me.

“Oh yeah?” I asked, carefully dividing my attention between the waffle iron and H-‘s mind.

“Yeah.”

“Why can’t you have them at snack time?”

“Because some kids are allergic to peanut butter.”

“Don’t they eat lunch with you too? How can you have Nutty Bars at lunch, but not at snack time?”

“At snack time the kids sit at the same table as us and they can smell the peanut butter,” she answered steadfastly.

This smelling problem being news to me, I resumed my inquiry with, “Okay, so what do they do at lunch?”

“They sit at the peanut butter table. There are not very many of them.”

“Ha. The ‘peanut butter table?’ What’s that?”

“That’s the table where you can’t have peanut butter.”

“So the poor kids who can’t have peanut butter have to sit all by themselves?”

“No,” she corrected. “They just sit at the peanut butter table. Anyone can sit at the peanut butter table as long as they don’t have peanut butter.”

“So there is no peanut butter at the peanut butter table?” I asked.

“Right.”

“Right.”