Bachata And Banana Phones

A Zillion Sparkles Red on my freshly painted toes, pearly cat ears and a little banana chat start my day happy.

Inspired by the music playing over the speaker system, I gently move to the Latin rhythm as we peruse the isles at the local grocery. My daughter quietly, yet firmly, admonishes, “MOM! STOP! I inwardly giggle, throw off my inhibitions and break out my best dance moves - just for her. She responds with an attempt to ignore me and quickens her pace to leave me behind. I happily follow her stride.

At the produce section I reach for a banana, pluck one off, place it to my ear and try to phone my daughter - for a little chat. “Ring, ring.” I snicker at her side. She rolls her eyes, glares and advises, “MOM! STOP!” I laugh, “Ring, riiiiiiing . . .” and follow her as she moves along the produce bins reproaching me as she tries to focus on her shopping, “MOM! STOP!” I persist, with a louder, “RING, RIIIIIIIING . . .” “FINE!” She declares and storms back over toward the bananas. She rips one off a bunch, places it to her ear and exclaims, “WHAT?” We both burst into laughter and our playful imagining begins.

We stop at the Butcher’s Counter and consult one another via nanner-phone, ”What would you like for dinner, hon?” I inquire. The butcher smiles and politely asks, “How may I help you ladies?” At the yogurt section, we convert our 'phones' into ‘pistols’. We holster our nanner-guns and compete at the fast draw in an attempt at hitting our targets. And inspired by the music herself, my daughter sings into her nanner-mic along with the music playing overhead. Passerby smile and outright laugh at our antics.

So distracted with play, I completely forget to dance - which is no doubt my girly’s strategy all along. Heehee! Wink, wink! Adulting is serious business. Just ask me, for I know and I can advise on its proper etiquette.