When they were small, they used to sneak into the kitchen at night. They never went for the cookie jar. They never went into their parent’s secret stash of whatever it was that they weren’t allowed to have yet. No, they opened the fridge and took a bite out of a cube of butter.

Part of it was because butter was delicious. But another part of it was because they would never get to do that when either of their parents were awake.

Then, of course, they grew up.

“Should I eat this stick of butter?” they asked their elder sibling.

“Do you want to?” was the response.

As they decided they wanted to, they did so. Despite being an adult, not much had changed.

2 thoughts on “Butter

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