I couldn’t think of a better day than a brisk December Sunday, to make a homemade banana bread! Why not, I had bananas rotting in my window for over a week now. I buy them with full intentions of bringing them to work for breakfast or a snack, but the bacon, egg and cheese bagel sandwich from my neighborhood coffee shop wins every time. This is probably my second time making one, and it’s a fairly painless process. I just googled the recipe from allrecipes.com. (For you banana bread lovers who have never made one yourself, here is the recipe http://allrecipes.com/recipe/the-best-banana-bread/)
So I cream the butter and the sugar and low and behold, my husband walks in. He says “is that all butter??’ “i’m not eating THAT!) I proceed to give him the look of (you better go or your going to find a fork in your eye). All is well and i return back to my Sunday project (yes, everything is a project for me). I am a Virgo, and if you’re into horoscopes, you will know that Virgos are perfectionists. This doesn’t mean that we do everything perfectly, it just means torturing ourselves with ALL the details to get it right. I had the recipe on my phone (i have no ink to print it, and my computer is in the other room) so it just made sense. After each step, I had to go back and read the next, after reading the previous step just to make sure I did it right.
The husband comes in again. “do you need me to help with anything?” I realize that when I do something, i’m not much of a team player. Maybe because I don’t like working with other people, or maybe so I can just take all the credit for when something comes out good! Well, I decided to let him join in after all. Bless his heart for wanting to help. I ask him to grab two eggs and add them to the mix. (I had to go back to my phone again to read the recipe). He then precedes to tell me that “there is a tiny little piece of egg shell, and maybe you can get it out because you have fingernails”. When I go over to look, he practically shoved me to the ground with his elbow yelling at me to get out of the light so he can show me where it is! What the?? How the heck am I supposed to see it then?? So, very nicely I told him to remove himself (because I was holding the fork, and as much I wanted to poke it in his eye, Sunday does NOT sound like a good day to go to jail)
After a few minutes passes, and the threat of death is over, he walks by to ask if I got the eggshell out. And yes, I did, after noticing that he used a clean bowl to put the egg shells in!!
Finally, the banana bread is in the oven and we are all alive. I’m not sure how many of you out there can tolerate an extra hand in the kitchen, but I obviously can not. So please, for the love of God, Allah, Lady Gaga or whatever you hold sacred, stay out my kitchen!