Bananarage

So Madison (my four-year old daughter) had just finished dinner, and wanted a banana. "Daddy, I want a banana."

"I want never gets."

"Daddy, can I please have a banana?"

Shouting to the lounge room, where Kelly is nursing Jade Louise (my 14-day old bubbagirl) - "Mummy, can she have a banana?"

Returned shout: "Yes!"

"Okay, sweetheart, here's your banana." I peeled the banana and handed it to her. She frowned.

"Daddy, it's supposed to be in a bowl!"

"...you don't need a bowl for a banana, sweetheart."

"But my fingers will get sticky!"

I sighed, reached over the oven and pulled out a plastic bowl with Shrek on it. Or possibly kittens. Something my in-laws had given her, so sickeningly cutesy, but hey, we didn't pay for it. I broke the banana in half and put it in the bowl.

"The bits are too big."

I broke the bits in half again.

"Daddy, you're supposed to cut them!"

"It's fine, sweetheart."

"YOU HAVE TO CUT THEM UP!"

At this point I snapped. I snatched the bowl off her, and to her screams and tears, I ate her banana. Every bite.

Then Kelly came in and cut up a banana for her and gave her a fork.




This story seemed much funnier before I wrote it down...