First Banana

For a year, I've had one kid who loves bananas and one kid who thinks bananas are "for babies."  I've gotten used to buying just enough bananas for Audrey to eat in a week and have appreciated Sebastian's disdain for the fruit.  He used to love bananas, but had some weird issues, like freaking out if you opened a banana in front of him.  It was really disturbing, like a night terror at the lunch table - open mouth, red face, tears streaming, his entire body grief-stricken, screaming "Why?  WHY?"

At the grocery store, I had to give him one banana in order to put the rest of the bunch in the basket.  At the checkout counter, I would explain to the cashier that she needed to weigh the bananas separately.  I would talk to her like a bomb expert, in a calm, slow, quiet but clear voice:

"Here is the bunch of bananas.  When you finish with that, I am going to take this banana from him.  I need you to put it on the scale, punch in the number, get the weight, and give it back to me as quickly as possible.  Do you understand?"

At first the cashier would roll her eyes and take her dang, sweet, high school, blue-tipped hair, gum-chewing time.  Then Sebastian would explode ("Why? WHY?") and that poor girl would choke on her gum while her eyes popped out.  The benefit of going to the same grocery store all the time is that people stopped rolling their eyes and just did what I said.  If a new employee was at the register, a supervisor would come over to execute the maneuver.

Eventually, Sebastian decided that bananas were for babies and I was more than happy to let that phase be a distant memory.

When you have a baby who starts eating solid food, bananas are awesome - portable, healthy, easy to break up, and delicious - so we started buying them again when Audrey came along.  Just to be safe, I only bought them when I was alone at the store or when the kids were distracted.  "Look!  A bird in the rafters!  Oh, you must have missed it..."  They still look sometimes when we go in the produce department, even though I've given up on the theatrics over the last few months.

This is one of Audrey's favorite foods, and she's fine with someone peeling a banana, so I figured Sebastian just had a bad past life experience.  When I picked Audrey up at daycare one day when she was about 15 months old, I found out that my kids both have the crazy banana gene.  Here's the report from her teacher:
"Audrey had a very bad day.  At snack time I cut her banana and she did not like that.  That's her milk over there and her crackers went under the other children's chairs.  We had to remove them all from the table to calm her down."
Then another teacher added that she heard the commotion from the next room, ran in and yelled "You didn't cut Audrey's banana did you?"  It was not the first time.

Turns out, if you slice a banana in front of my daughter, she becomes Hulk.  If I put banana in her cereal, I would slice it in the pantry.  I found out she saw through the charade the day she flipped her cereal bowl up to the chandelier.  If she's going to eat a banana, I just peel it and give it to her.  The last six months have been banana-tantrum-free with only one child eating them.

Then the other day, I offered Audrey a banana and, much to my surprise, Sebastian asked for one as well.  I peeled a second one for him and sure enough, he ate the whole thing with no problem.  He talked about how eating apples and bananas will make him grow big and strong.  I appreciate this because, once again, bananas are a great, healthy, portable snack for kids.  I was so glad my kids have moved past their craziness and we can snack in peace.

That is, with one important caveat.

Sebastian likes to "be first" and "win" at everything now because he's 4 and that's what kids do.  He wants to get dressed first, get in the bath first, buckle himself into the car first.  "I'm first and I'm the best," he tells Audrey, who just shrugs because she doesn't care about being first to anything.  Also, she seems fully aware that she is the best and doesn't need to worry herself with haters and pretenders.

Yesterday, Audrey asked for a banana for a snack.  Sebastian ran into the kitchen yelling "Yeah!  I want a banana too!  I want my banana first!"  This shouldn't be a big deal.  I peeled a banana and offered it to him.

Audrey reached out ninja-quick and bitchslapped that banana, breaking it in half and knocking it across the room.  Stunned, I held the remaining banana, cut clean at the top of the peel.  Sebastian burst into tears.  I looked at Audrey and found her cold, unfeeling glare piercing into my soul.  Without a word or the slightest movement, she informed me that this would not happen again because I would not dare cross that line.

If we intend to continue eating our snacks in peace, I'm going to need to remember which one of my children is still insane.  For the foreseeable future, Audrey gets the First Banana.