Gill and I were returning from a movie the other evening and I began to empty my large purse of the snacks I had taken with me. A rule breaker now that I am a senior and figure I have nothing to lose, I prefer to take food and drink that works for me, not load up on crap on offer at the concession stands. I don’t care what they say about not bringing contraband food into the theatre.
Some of the crap is fine (yogurt in a waffle cone, for example) but one never knows when they’ve replaced one’s favourite concession stands with something more appealing to the teenaged movie goers…like a twenty-pound box of popcorn doused in tasty bright orange chemicals and ‘real’ butter. I take things like nuts, apples, a small piece of dark chocolate or a banana.
As I pulled the banana from my bag, Gill remarked sarcastically: “Wow, Ma! Even the banana is so ashamed of itself it hid in your bag! How can you eat those things? They’re just gross.”
“I never claimed I LIKE bananas, but they do perform a valuable service. They get me past my 3 o’clock sugar low and give me enough energy to make it through until a real meal. And a hit of potassium — never underestimate that!”
I continued: “Have you never seen the ‘power shakes’ Crazy D makes with bananas before he goes bike-riding or to his four-hour gym sessions? The fruit must have SOMETHING going for it! ”
“Yes,” commented Gill. “I’ve also seen ‘The Swamp’, the area beside the kitchen sink where all the half-bananas go to die. What is with that? Every time I come into the kitchen someone has chopped one in half and left it to languish, collect fruit flies, and begin the decomposing process right where I’m making lunch! There is nothing so precious about a half-banana that deems it worthy of being saved in that manner! Just bin it like every normal person does! Next thing I know you’ll be saying burial prayers for it and giving it a decent sendoff…which, come to think of it, would be preferable to your current system of disposal.”
“Well, I think you’re being unfairly critical,” I noted in our defense. “Apparently you haven’t seen all of Crazy D’s half-bananas that are hidden in the fridge…or L’il Sis’ blackened bananas that she’s saving to turn into muffins or bread. Waste not, want not!”
“Ma, bananas are cheap! Even the organic ones those two insist on buying…if 59 cents is going to wreak havoc on the family budget, you all have a bigger problem than I thought! And the reason I haven’t seen the bananas cooling their heels is because I refuse to go excavating beyond the first tier in that mausoleum you call a fridge. Heaven knows what forensic anomalies lurk back there!”
“Scoff all you want but the banana is a noble fruit and is revered in this house. Remember how, when you were a child with allergies and couldn’t eat desserts other kids could eat since they contained dairy and sugar, I went out of my way to make you special ‘Banana -Avocado Smoothies’? You loved them. And every time you had a party when you lived in Toronto you ordered Mrs. Dufflet’s special sugar coma-inducing banana cake? Everyone loved it and since all the sugar made everyone so drowsy, it was a great way to signal the end of the party? And really, how many other fruits can brag of their versatility and service to humanity? The noble banana is ALWAYS the one used in sex ed classes to demonstrate the proper use of condoms! I dare you to top that!”
“Ma, you’ve finally done it. You’ve left me speechless…”
“It took long enough.”