I am a peanut butter freak. And my Mom knows it. No matter how old I get (and I’m waaaay past the age of consent), she makes my favorite cookies – Peanut Butter Kisses – when I come home for Christmas. Typically, I’ll be sleepwalking through the door straight from a redeye from LAX to the east coast with nothing but the sofa is calling my name. But there’s always a stack of PB Kisses on the counter that need a little loving before I can sleep. Who am I to disappoint my mother? (Don’t answer that.)
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