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Baa..baa..bananas!

Like I said, the wag is back to her original blog...riffing (sorta) on life with kids...
So, those who know me will know how I hate that most phallic of symbols ...the banana!!! Not just the way it looks (though that grosses me out anyways), not its colour not its texture...its smell. The blasted stuff can't ripen without one wanting to run away ...and God forbid if you leave the skin lying around!!! Sheesh! I have famously asked a roommate to please ripen her store of bananas in another friend's room (who if she's still reading this blog will instantly recognize herself!!) because goddamnit I will tolerate a lot of stuff and clean our room but I will not have that stuff around...luckily for me my roommate and the aforementioned friend were both sweet people who agreed to my rather mean request!! And I will not touch fruit salad...brown pieces of sticky banana!!
Why this rant you ask? And what does it have to do with either Poo? Well, both girls love the stuff...big, yellow, smelly...bring it on they say. With #1 I had to swallow a bitter pill and actually feed her the stuff... mushy that too...luckily day care soon took over and I was relieved of that task at least!
But with K-poo, hausfrau that I am now, I am forced to "offer" it to her. And K-poo is an eater. Thank god, for most days and ways, but the problem is she wants to hold the whole fruit in all its gorgeous squashiness!! And the end result of that of course is a putrid mass of squishy banana goo that I have to not look at for fear of retching all over a one-yr-old and scarring her for life! I stick it out bravely and continue to smile encouragingly as I peel the thing and feed her bit by excruciating bit.
And today, I have officially given up. I shall not care if my younger daughter partially masticates her fruit, spits it out, examines the mess between her fingers, gives it a good squeeze for luck and then lovingly offers it to her mother. I will not care if I have to peel the fruit only to be dismissed and have to save the peeled fruit ON my microwave until "later." I will not mind if my bin and the kitchen smell of rotting banana peel. I will not recoil if I find a piece of dried banana paste on my T-shirt. I will still kiss the cheek of the daughter as she offers it up with a bit of the stuff all over her chin. For I love them, do I not?
Besides, I see succour and support coming my way!! D-Poo the other day threw an enraged tantrum. "You're a mean thing, mommy. You're making me carry my own stinky disgusting banana peel! I don't want to have to touch it!" Music to my ears!!! Of course, SHE got punished!!

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