I will be fasting for the next three days. Between the fried chicken, a few glasses of wine last night and today’s banana bread sandwiches, My thighs are crying. E’s might be, too.

But for one last indulgent lazy summer breakfast, what better meal than banana bread? I’ve gotten my banana bread recipe down cold from practice (walnuts are a must), so I made up a batch before I went to sleep. “Babes, the house smells good!” E said as we tucked into bed, snuggling tight against me and nuzzling against my ear, a big ol’ smile on his face. “Mmm, I love you,” he cooed. Ladies, take note— that’s what fresh baking banana bread will do to a man.

The next morning, I sliced up banana and smoothed on the slightest bit of Nutella just so the banana slices didn’t slide off. E slinked into the living room in that white terrycloth robe of his and took to the couch, turning on “Pirates of the Carribbean” in Spanish because he was too lazy to change the channel. He was also too lazy to use his hands, so I fed a bite sized sandwich into his mouth like a momma birds does with worms in baby bird’s mouths.

“Mmophohaym, thith isth scho good,” he mumbled.

Besitos, mi amor. Te amo.

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