Slice of Life A Sweet Story

A Sweet Story

At Gramma’s house in Bismarck, North Dakota, my son ran in the back door into the kitchen and stopped in his tracks, looked at the kitchen table and pointed, asking, “Turds?”

No, it was my mom making my two boys a treat new to them: peanut butter cups— rolled peanut butter balls dipped in chocolate, which, of course, looked to him like…turds, much to me, his mother’s, consternation.

My mom shook her head and laughed.

Greg snagged one and gobbled it down and then asked for the recipe, which my mom dictated to him as he grabbed the nearest piece of paper— the inside of a greeting card box, which you can see in the picture above and below, along with the recipe, adjusted a bit by my mom.

Our family still makes from this recipe and enjoys them each Christmas, and we still call them, Turds.

A bag of the goodies, made by Stacy.

And, a picture of Greg and my mom— years later at our house. Greg and Gramma on the left.