as a kid we didn't often have sweets in our house. i think this was either because we didn't have a lot of money for that stuff or because no doubt it caused a fight to erupt- maybe both. i do remember that if someone showed up with a sweet thing sharing was required- and one kid cut the thing into "equal" shares and the non-cutter got to pick first. ingenious plan my mother came up with.
which meant that being sneaky with sweets was really important.
it also meant that my brother and i got acquainted with all sorts of ways to get a sweet fix with what was on hand. peanut butter and honey was a common concoction because baker's chocolate is not that sweet and we did not yet know how to melt it in a double-boiler, sweeten it up and pour into candy molds. actually- i just did that the first time about a year ago.
peanut butter and honey is rich and thick like nougat. this was adam's peanut butter- jiff was something that lived at my dad's house. peter pan peanut butter was something only seen on the commercials. and the smucker's jelly and peanut butter combo jar was just too far out of reality to even consider.
for many years i could not taste peanut butter and honey- or even smell it- without feeling smaller and slightly ill. because when you are deprived you tend to take it too far.
recently i found a ceramic honey pot, complete with the strange wooden utensil, for $1 at the thrift store. It is hand-thrown, glazed indigo blue and makes me feel cozy. i imagined it perched next to me as i drizzled fireweed honey into my oatmeal or tea. so i bought it to complete this fantasy.
we live in a small home so it's easy to sneak up on folks without really meaning to. i walked into the kitchen to find my older son leaning over the honey pot with a surprised look on his face.
he said he was eating the honey. duh.
he said he was using a spoon. liar.
the strange wooden utensil was licked clean. it being so much like a lollipop, i guess it was fated to be sucked on by a candy-deprived child in need of a sugar fix.
i heard a faint "pop" sound as memory and fantasy collided right above my head leaving me with a tainted honey jar and buzzing child.