I am a disaster in the kitchen. It takes ages to scrape carbonized remains off the bottom of pots and pans, so I generally avoid the place. I keep my visits short, simple, and away from sharp objects.
Which is why what happened today was like an episode of the Twilight Zone.
It all started because I really wanted a banana. I craved a banana the way a pregnant woman craves hot wings at 1am. I lead-footed it back home anticipating this banana, anticipating the first bite of soft yellow flesh. Alas, it was not to be. There were two bananas sitting in the basket on the counter. Both were the color of Molasses, the horse that tried to kill my instructor at a poorly run summer camp. (Black, like the beast’s soul….) When I prodded one with a finger the skin caved and didn’t bounce back.
Desperate, I peeled one. It wilted over the edge of a cutting board, Salvador Dali style, and oozed.
Damn. I really wanted a banana.
And the gears in my head started to grind a little bit. Little systems of nerve endings swiveled around and tested possibilities. What does one do with two overly ripe bananas? As far as I could tell, there were only two choices. One was clearly better than the other, but a banana mush war would require another person, and my cat didn’t seem up for the excitement. So instead I googled recipes for banana bread that only involved two bananas.
I thought Hell, I can follow directions like any other schmo, right?
Flour was thick in the air. Everything was sticky, but I fought on. I even braved the knife drawer, plunging my hand into the deep chaos of the serrated unknown.
The toasted loaf is sitting on the stove across the kitchen from me right now. Dad was supposed to come home, see it, and make a beeline for it. Dad was supposed to take a bite, pause, chew slowly, and then allow a grin to spread over his face. He would either laugh at me for my attempt or, surprised, congratulate me on my success.
But he got home later than usual. And now he’s in bed. And it’s just me and the loaf, staring each other down. It’s only ten o’ clock.
We have all night.
