Banana Bread is one of the few things that I bake from scratch, and it is a big hit in this house. Ron can consume an entire loaf on his own, although he usually isn't allowed to... he must share with me and Joey. In fact, I really think that Ron enjoys watching a couple of extra bananas sit on the counter day after day getting over-ripe because he knows that the banana bread is coming soon.
Since this is my first year hosting Thanksgiving Dinner, (and I had a couple of over-ripe bananas) I decided to add my authentic banana bread to the menu. I had a little extra time this afternoon before the children woke up so I whipped up a batch. I love saying that. Oh, I just whipped this up. Easy-peasy. Ha. So anyway, Joey watched as I poured the batter into the loaf pan. He called it baby food because to usually most semi-solid/semi-liquid mixtures in our house is baby food. I said, "No honey, this is banana bread. Mommy is going to put it in the oven to let it cook and we can eat it on Thanksgiving." "OH-KAY!" He responded. So in the oven it went, timer started, and I went back to playing choo-choos on the living room floor.
Ron came home from the grocery store a bit later, took one whiff, and said "mmmm, smells like Mommy made banana bread." Somehow I figured he knew it was for Turkey Day, and didn't need reminding not to eat this particular loaf the minute it was on the cooling rack....
I suppose you can figure out what happened next. Well actually, what almost happened next. While I was walking down the hall from the afternoon diaper changing station, I caught Ron standing over my perfectly brown banana bread, knife in hand, Joey and Daisy prepared to go in for the kill. "STOP! That isn't for today, it's for Thanksgiving." All three perpetrators turned to look at me. All three were equally disappointed as I quickly snatched up the banana bread, wrapped it in foil, a put it way back on the counter. In fact Joey was so disappointed that I had to bribe him with gummy bears to get him out of the kitchen. (Ron too!)