If you’ve known me any length of time or read the previous post with facts about my special self, you will realize what an important role fruit plays in my life. I look at the fruit bowl every morning with awe when I realize that not only is every single item in the bowl nutritious, but it is also sweet and candy-like. A miracle food! My loving husband, unfortunately, does not hold fruit in the same regard. He will eat an orange if it isn’t too tart and has been refrigerated long enough to make it the required temperature. He will eat strawberries (and a very few other expensive, seasonal fruits) but prefers if they are mixed up in Jello and put in some kind of pie, which I’ve never been kind enough to make for him (that one is left to you, Kathy). A red grape of requisite size, without pits and with a certain intangible texture is acceptable. He counts juice as fruit, which we all know is preposterous. But even these fruit that he does approve of are only eaten when set in front of him and accompanied by a steely gaze. He hates apples, very unAmerican if you ask me. He finds kiwi annoying. Melons make him gag. But that’s not the worst of it. The worst of it is worse than you could imagine; he hated bananas.
But LO! Something amazing has happened in our household, a miraculous miracle of the highest order. Dave starting eating bananas. One of the most common, easy to eat, cheap to purchase, potassium packed fruits around. Before this marvel, Dave looked at a banana, when I offered him one, like it was a venomous snake holding a gun. He squished up his nose, clenched his jaw shut and turned his face away (perhaps just in case the banana made an unexpected leap towards his mouth), indicating with a panicky waving of the hands something like “No, thank you ever so kindly, I would not care for a banana at this juncture.” I would sigh, roll my eyes at this dramatic showing of banana-hate, and eat the banana myself.
A simple twist of fate has made this all too familiar scenario a mere memory. A couple weeks ago before a road-game, Dave found himself in the locker room, suddenly famished. And there was nothing to eat except a bowl full of potentially gag-inducing, poisonous bananas. Times were desperate, the stomach was growling, and so he did the only thing he could: he peeled the banana and ate it. According to his own account, he did this with great disgust at first. The face was scrunched in the aforementioned fashion while he chewed. But slowly, surely, he didn’t die of banana poisoning. And not only did he remain living, but he realized (as his face gradually unscrunched) that he LIKED the taste of the banana, and perhaps even the texture.
He kept his banana renaissance a secret at first. I’m sure he didn’t want me going overboard and buying out all the bananas in the market. And maybe he even thought the locker room incident was a fluke. But he couldn’t hide forever. One morning, I walked into the kitchen with the intention of peeling and then forcing Dave to eat an orange and *GASP* he was eating a banana. Not only does he tolerate bananas and accept them for their health benefits, he enjoys eating them and actually craves them throughout the day! We still have a minor disagreement about whether slightly brown bananas (my preference) or still green bananas (Dave’s preference) reign supreme, but that battle can be left for another day.
Sidenote: Bananas, while my favorite fruit, should not be exploited. For example, banana flavored Runts are NOT delicious and taste nothing like bananas. I’m offended that Runts has even had the gall to use the banana shape for this hideous excuse for candy. Additionally, Germans seems to enjoy banana flavored juice (shown here, a gift given to Dave after a team promotional event), and I really cannot condone that. If I squeeze a banana, no juice comes out. So what are you fools drinking?
*photos courtesy of: thekarmapolice and trp0