Banana Bread Retraction

I wrote a post about banana bread a few months ago.

Here's what I thought I wrote:

1. Banana bread strikes the right chord between comfort food and deliciousness.

2. So many of us have banana bread as our go-to baked good in sad/tragic/lukewarm circumstances.

3. Maybe we should encourage ourselves to think slightly out of the box, because the poor people on the receiving end may be getting many more banana breads than they can actually eat.

Here's what people heard:

1. I hate your banana bread and you are a terrible cook.

2. If you were a better friend, you would have come up with a better idea than banana bread.

3. I threw your banana bread in the garbage, fed it to my dogs, and used it to line my bird cage.

Here's what people actually said to me:

1. I am never baking you another banana bread again.

2. You didn't hurt my feelings, but everyone else is very insulted.

3. If you wake up with half a banana head bread in your bed, don't be surprised.

Here's my bottom line:

1. I never meant to hurt anyone's feelings and I am really sorry.

2. I am so exhausted right now that if anyone so much as hard boiled me an egg I'd be very grateful, never mind a home-made banana bread.

3. I actually really like banana bread.

Not So Fast

About 17 years ago we were at Thanksgiving dinner.

Someone brought a baby.

Offered to hold baby so mother could eat.

Baby a bit fussy.

Turned her onto my shoulder so could face backward.

Dining room chairs a little taller than anticipated.

Baby's face may have possibly collided with back of chair.

Baby's neck may have possibly snapped back like she was auditioning for So You Think You Can Dance.

Mom was distinctly nonplussed.

Her understated reaction was (and continues to be) shocking to the Thanksgiving hosts.

I have been in the unenviable position of defending the mom for not getting angrier at me.

I have actually uttered the words: "Well, at least I didn't drop the baby on her head."

Fast forward to Brunch, yesterday.

Another friend and her gorgeous 17 year old daughter, E.

Reminiscing about what a cute baby E was.

Remember that time at Yom Kippur? - says the mom.

You put her in the stroller without strapping her in.

You did WHAT? Brunch guests gaped at me, horrified. What happened next?

Stroller tipped over, said the mom.

IT WHAT? More horrified glares.

It was 17 years ago, I said in my defence.

And, well, at least I didn't -- Actually, I think I may have.

Morals of The Story:
1. Babies should not be included in holiday dinners, pose too much of a security risk.
2. Practice on other people's children so by the time you have your own you know what you are doing.
3. It is possible to repress a memory of a truly humiliating event.
4. Something great about friends who have known you forever and can forgive you anything.