So, one morning I ate a banana for breakfast. Now, I didn’t want the peel ripening in the kitchen garbage can all day and stinking up the place, so I figured I’d take it outside to the trash when I left for work. Being an innovative thinker, I threw the peel on the floor next to the front door so I wouldn’t forget to take it out when I left for work. Then I got ready for the day.
And that’s the story of how I ended up slipping on a banana peel.
Only two types of people slip on banana peels:
- Cartoon characters
- And me
In my defense, contributing factors to the incident included dim lighting, tile floors, a sense of haste — and a strong genetic disposition to these types of occurrences.
Okay, I admit it — at times, I’m a ridiculous human being. Cartoon character is also not out of the realm of possibility. (Yeah, we’re not asking the Houseguest’s opinion on this one.)
Though on second thought…
You know, this makes me think back to when I was around age five or so and I first became aware of death. It caused me a lot of concern because it seemed to me that God had it out for us. (Don’t worry, I’ll delve into the origins of my first neurotic episode in a future post.)
One night my dad, still in his blue Air Force fatigues (he served in the Presidential Wing so didn’t wear the normal green ones), had just put me and my sister Bridget to bed. As he tucked me in, I started crying and he asked me what was wrong.
Blubbing, I wanted to know if we could go live inside the TV with a cartoon character named Huckleberry Hound so we didn’t have to die. To me, it seemed like the perfect solution. You can drop an anvil on a cartoon character, blow them up, shoot them full of holes, etc, etc and it might inconvenience them momentarily, but they always shake it off pretty quickly.
Dad said we couldn’t live in the TV but not to worry because we would go to heaven after we died. I still wasn’t keen on the whole dying thing (and being scared of God didn’t help). And hanging out with Huckleberry Hound seemed like it would be a lot more fun than floating on a cloud and plucking a harp for eternity. But his explanation did get me to stop crying.
You know, judging by my spotty track record as an adult, there could be a strong argument made that I am in fact, a cartoon character. (To be honest, I’d have a hard time refuting that one). However, having said that, I’d appreciate it if you guys refrain from dropping an anvil on me as a test. If it doesn’t finish me off, living in the U.S. I’d rather not go bankrupt from medical bills and be in extreme pain at the same time.
P.S. By the way, if you’re wondering if I ever left a banana on the floor again, the next time, I draped it over the doorknob. Who says I don’t learn from my mistakes? (Don’t listen to the Houseguest. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.)
For more tales of folly from my childhood, check out the time I tried to light my dad’s grill.