Tuesday, November 03, 2009
"What on earth have you got there?" Julie looked askance at the crate Harold was dragging through the door. "Please don't tell me you were lured by a bargain."
"As you wish." Harold hefted the box onto the table. "Forty pounds of brown bananas," he said. "It was a b—irresistible opportunity."
"For what?" Julie poked at the produce. "It looks like a box of slugs."
"I could make banana bread, banana cake, banana wine, banana milk shakes..."
"But you won't, Harold. You'll put them in a corner of the kitchen and there they'll stay until I throw them out. I've known you four years and not once have I seen you cook, let alone bake."
"Perhaps you could—"
"No, Harold, I could not. Now go and put your bananas on the compost heap where they'll at least do some good."