Banana-Rama

I set them in the windowsill for them to see and eat.

They just sit there getting darker;

getting even darker by the day.

Look at those old black bananas,

they would make good bread;

sweet and yummy.

Everyone loves this kind.

Life gets in the way.

The bananas look really black and rotten.

"Maybe today," I say.

Into the backpack she goes.

I mix up the batter that makes the best loaf;

mixing for five minutes or more;

(she's kicking at my back and pulling my hair)

squishing the bananas inside the black peel,

and squeezing them into the mixing bowl.

Cat runs by scared of the mixing sound.

"What are you making?" the other one says.

She pulls a chair to the counter to peek.

"Banana bread" replied as it's spooned into the pan.

Into the hot oven it goes.

She asks for chocolate chips,

I rinse out the bowl,

and suddenly I smell a delicious smell.

How can something so undesirable make bread taste so sweet?

"Can I have some?"

Pretty soon the bread is all gone.

hmm....

No one eats the black bananas

but they all love the bread.