Bananas and barstools
My child is pointing to and calling for a banana, the way I used to beg bartenders not to cut me off and to just give me "one of those" (whatever was closest, I'd point to it)--which usually left me muttering incoherently into the straw of my ice water that they would give me instead.
I hate the smell, texture and taste of bananas (the last of which shouldn't count except that the kid likes to share his fucking bananas with me!!! GROSS!). Consequently my mother hated hearing stories about how I fell off a barstool and probably should've gone to the hospital for headwound sutures. I think this is cosmic payback and I'm not too happy about it. Because there are going to be worse things than bananas aren't there? Damn you weren't supposed to say yes.
I hate the smell, texture and taste of bananas (the last of which shouldn't count except that the kid likes to share his fucking bananas with me!!! GROSS!). Consequently my mother hated hearing stories about how I fell off a barstool and probably should've gone to the hospital for headwound sutures. I think this is cosmic payback and I'm not too happy about it. Because there are going to be worse things than bananas aren't there? Damn you weren't supposed to say yes.
Labels: bananas, bars, karma, pet peeves, Tommy
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