One more week ‘til the move.
I have to tell you what happened to me last week. I was the only one home in the morning and I was getting ready to leave for the office. I came down from the upstairs (my perch) and realized that I didn’t eat any breakfast. Upstairs in our sitting room we have our coffee pot and a small toaster oven to get us through the morning time. Neal loves Pop Tarts and I don’t care if I never see one ever again since that has been breakfast since January 12.
Back to the story, I made my way downstairs and there was this beautiful perfect banana in the basket right on the counter. Exactly what I needed and wanted. I gathered up my stuff that I wag and drag and was making my way to the garage door. I reached out for my banana only to find it was a plastic banana with a Chiquita sticker on it.
What kind of a person keeps a plastic banana in the fruit basket? Really? I pondered this all the way to work. Why? And with a real paper sticker on it!
When we all returned home that evening I asked in a very matter-of-fact tone “what kind of a person keeps a plastic banana in their fruit basket?” They all laughed hysterically and I realized I should have never revealed that I mistook it for a real one. Sister said it had been there for years—ever since her daughter was in high school. She didn’t know why it was there only that it was a family tradition.
Of course you know the rest… every time we had anything to eat, that banana was on my plate. And when anyone went to the store, they asked, “Need any bananas?” I will think of something to get them back, don’t you worry. Until next time, tell me about something like this in your family. We all have that one family member!
