PBJs

I love peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

I didn't always.

The Necessary Materials
(from bernews.com)

My twin brother loves them. He eats them every day, still, as an adult (sidenote: even though we're twins, I'm only a semi-adult. Just wanted to make sure we are clear on this). He still dunks them, like a cookie, right into a glass of cold milk, just as we did as kids. He has perfected the art of applying the peanut butter (all natural, the kind you have to mix) with the jelly (I think he experiments in this area) to a specific type of bread. He knows the precise measurements of thickness to apply on the peanut butter side and how much should be contrasting it on the jelly side.

He even has a special peanut butter mixing and spreading spatula.

Now that I am far away from my brother, I find myself reaching for peanut butter in the grocery store, picking out a tasty looking fruit accompaniment and slathering both on some home-made bread. And yes, I still dunk mine in milk.

I take pbjs skiing, hiking and camping. My boyfriend even switched out his chunky peanut butter for my beloved creamy (a big move) when making me sandwiches for our Valentine's Day climbing date. I considered it one of the sweetest gestures ever.

This childhood lunch has managed to stay with me through the years. I believe it is because I tie it in with someone who I love so much; because of the memories associated with it when we were still under the same roof and not 2500 miles away from each other. I've come to realize it's not so much that I love the taste of Peanut Butter & Jelly sandwiches (I don't like anything else peanut butter related) but more because of where the first memories of this sandwhich lie.

What little things have you kept with you since childhood? What meaning do they have to you?