Going Bananas

I get an email from my husband this morning asking, Did a dog get my bananas? They were sure beat up. That pretty must sums up what is like at my house most days. I write back and tell him-Yes, a dog had your bananas, but only one bunch. =0)

The dog in question is Caelan. He will not leave the bananas alone. I have wrote about his love before. He takes them out on the deck or behind the A/C unit, peels one, and only one, and eats it. He just mauls the rest. The other day I look over and there is a banana peel in the window frame where he likes to stalk the squirrels. I have to admit to laughing my head off, as it takes you by surprise. What IS that? Oh.....

I moved the bananas from the kitchen table, to the countertop, to a fruit bowl, to the windowsill. He has gotten so tall, there is nowhere safe. Bananas are a funny thing though. Once you move them from the countertop it is out of sight out of mind. You only remember them when they ooze out of your cabinet way passed the point of banana bread. You pray the stems don't break before you get their squishy bodies to the garbage can and unceremoniously plop to the floor. I already use the oven and microwave as a bread box. Can you put them in the fridge? I never have, but I can see them getting shoved back behind the milk and the proverbial science project is born. I really need to come up with a plan, and soon.

As always, textures compliments of the ever generous and talented Jerry Jones

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