I tend to stock-pile bananas. Every weekend, without fail, I buy enough bananas to get me through the work-week. Unfortunately, I tend to overindulge my banana enthusiasm. And before I know it, I’ve tossed another two overripe bananas into the freezer – with the idea that some day soon they would find themselves in banana bread.
“Soon” soon took on new meaning.
Last week I opened my freezer to a veritable army of frozen bananas, their ranks having swelled over the …
I don’t quite know what prompted it, but for an entire summer, my youngest brother had to have French toast before camp. What might have started as a special breakfast soon became the breakfast. Every day. And with time, his demands seemed only to grow. It had to have the crusts removed. It needed to be in the shape of a circle. It had to come with powdered sugar.
Sometimes we’d all have French toast, but more often than not, we were content with cereal. No matter. He stuck to his guns. And Mom faithfully complied, serving up French Toast, then rushing us all off to camp.
On this Mother’s Day, why not…