Our son, Garrett is obsessed with bananas.
We believe he is part monkey.
Garrett will even peel them in one piece, the way a monkey will do. So, in an attempt to make the bananas last more than one day, we hide them.
The first hiding place was under the kitchen sink, next to the dish soap. I did not know Garrett was watching me from his breakfast chair, until I found the pile of peels on the couch.
The next hiding place was in the cupboard, behind the cereal boxes. Garrett sniffed those out like a K-9 on the drug force.
They went from the cupboard to the bread basket, to behind the toaster and then inside the big soup pot. Garrett found his fix every time.
“This is it,” I told Charlie as I deposited the bunch of bananas behind the water cooler, “there are no more hiding places left. We have to be careful and not let Garrett see us reach behind here for his golden sustenance.”
So, I started placing a banana on the table next to his peanut butter and jelly sandwich before I called Garrett to the table. I am happy to report that we have managed to stay this one step ahead of Garrett for almost six months now.
But, occasionally, Garrett will come to the kitchen before I am ready.
“Where’s my nanna?” Garrett asks.
“I think Dad left one on the coffee table,” I reply.
When Garrett runs to the living room, I pull a banana out from behind the water cooler and toss it on his plate.
“There’s one!” Garrett will shout when he returns.
During the last few months, I’ve sent him on a banana hunt to the laundry basket,to the bathroom sink and under his bed-just so he does not see me reach into the hiding place. That may sound cruel to some moms. Those other mothers who have not found piles of yellow skeletons in their basket of needlepoint projects, that is.
This morning, I completely forgot the banana.
“Where’s my nanna?” Garrett asked with cheeks already full of PB and J.
“I think we need to get some at the store,” I replied.
For the life of me, I could not remember if we had any left. It was better not send him on a wild goose chase and give him false hope.
Garrett sighed and stood up. He turned to the window.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“I look out the window,” he answered.
Garrett covered his head with the curtain.
“You get the banana,” he ordered.
I never really know who’s fooling whom around here…