I Wuz Just Thinking: Life is just a bowl of bananas

Photo: Medical News Today

Being able to divide the proper portion of food among eight people is often more than merely a mathematical problem.

While putting away the groceries and separating the fruits, I thought about grocery shopping eight years ago for our six sons, as well as for Jimmy and me – the eight of us.

Recently, someone asked me how I was able to feed and clothe all of those kids.  To me, I did not think too much about it. I knew families that had many more children than we did.

Grocery day was a lot of math – figuring the amount of meat per portion for each person per meal, the number of slices of bread to go along with sandwiches, vegetables, and desserts.


Thinking of portions, I remembered when my sister Julia’s son, Kobe, was visiting the home of one of his little friends.  The mother served red beans along with the rest of the meal.  The next day when Julia went to pick him up, the mother apologized to Julia. She said she had not realized that Kobe did not like red beans. 

Julia looked surprised and asked, “Why would you think he did not like beans?

She knew Kobe l-o-v-e-d beans. 

The mother replied, “Kobe only took just a few beans on his plate.”

On the way home, Julia asked Kobe why he ate only a few beans. Was there something wrong with the taste? 

Kobe said, “No, they tasted good. I just did not know how many beans I was allowed to take.” 

Seems he saw the woman in her kitchen and  Kobe thought she was “counting the beans”.

Julia could hardly wait to get home and call the lady and explain the “bean” situation.

In reality, when Kobe saw her in the kitchen and thought she was counting the beans, the mother was actually picking the small rocks and bad beans from the bag before boiling them!


I had apples in one bowl, oranges in another, and was reaching for the third bowl when I glanced down at the twenty-four bananas.    I told each son that there would be three bananas per person.  They could decide if they wanted to just eat it from its skin, sliced and added to a bowl of cereal, or make a dessert from the banana.  They all nodded as if they understood.

Arriving home after work the next day, I looked at the banana bowl and saw there were none left. Starting from the oldest to the youngest,  I questioned each boy and had them explain what they did with their three bananas.  Finally getting to the youngest son, Jeffrey, he said he ate his three bananas and was still hungry so he ate the other six.

I tried to explain that he not only ate his three bananas but also those I had bought for his Daddy and me.  His little face hung low, and tears spilled from his eyes.

I wuz just thinking …

Was he shedding those tears because he was ashamed of eating our bananas? Or were they the result of a stomach ache? Either way, it was a hard price to pay and a hard lesson to learn for consuming the last of the bananas.




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