Occasionally I like to buy bright yellow bananas. Chris, Alex and I all like them, but we never seem to like them fast enough. Invariably, the skins will get dark marks an no one will want to eat them. At that point, it's a waiting game. I have to allow the the dark spots to get bigger and the fruit to get softer so they become suitable for baking something tasty. It's a tricky game because I can wait longer for baked goods than my husband can wait to have a clear counter. Two weeks ago, he took my two perfect for baking bananas and threw them away. I was not happy about that. I ranted about the waste, about patience, about communication. I would not throw away his things. Why did he feel it necessary to throw away my bananas? I could tell he did not feel my pain, but he did apologize..
Fast-forward a week and we're back in the kitchen. Chris had just returned from running a 5K and Alex and I had just returned from getting him registered for school. Chris proudly says, "Look what I brought you!" He brought home a big bunch of bananas leftover from the 5K. They were yellow with green so I have had to wait. It's been terrible. I see them on the counter and they mock me. I can sense their banana thoughts taunting me: Just look at us all yellow and yet dark. I bet that heat made us so soft and sweet. I bet you wish you had time to do something with us. If you don't, Chris will come throw us away. Such a waste. Such a shame.
Everyday that I came home and didn't bake felt like a small failure. I baked Friday night so Chris could take a cake to the runners club, but he left it at home Saturday and Sunday. I grudgingly took it to work today. I showed him. Someone was going to enjoy those damn bananas in the form of tasty baked goods.
I baked two more cakes tonight - one at the Grapevine Police Department. I drove it over there to show my appreciation...and because I'm running out of sources to take my banana cakes. I've taken three to work in the past month. They love them, but I don't want them to get tired of them. I walked in, cake box in hand, and asked the officer at the front desk if I could offer Grapevine's finest a cake. She unlocked the door and took my license. The copy machine was less than 10 feet from the door, but the door closed behind her and I waited for what seemed like a very long time. I think she ran my license through the computer. She came back through a door further down the hallway, returned my license and took the cake with a word of thanks.
I still have a cake cooling. I'm not sure what to do with it. Maybe the Fire Department likes cake. Maybe I'll drop it by the church. Cake should not require this much thought. I accused my husband of mocking me with those bananas in revenge of my rant. He said he was just trying to be nice. He said that I could throw them away because they were free and going to end up in the trash had he not brought them home so no loss. My husband is a wonderful man who only wants to see me happy, but after three years of marriage, I still don't think he fully comprehends how jacked up my mind is. I couldn't just throw away those bananas. They were good for something and I was going to make good of them.
I made a trip to the grocery store this week to get the stuff for the cakes and a second trip because I didn't realize I was out of walnuts. I made third trip to the craft store for cake boxes. I spent hours on my feet mixing and icing. I invested time, precious gas and money for those bananas. Throw them away? Throw them away!?! What are you? Crazy? Yes. Yes, I am.
No comments:
Post a Comment