Ewww, Thanks.

Little boys have a strange way of showing their affection for a person.

I remember when I was a girl, I'd babysit these two boys who lived next store. They'd bring me worms and spiders and other gross things to me with big smiles splashed across their faces, beaming like they'd just found the Holy Grail.

I would kind of smile as I cringed away, kind of holding out my hand and wincing at the same time.

It seems that the same MO applies as boys turn into men.

I love to cook, this is no secret. What is secret is my banana bread recipe. I've taken a bit of my mom's and a bit of Mama Zimmerman's (my grandmother used to vacation with her) and come up with a combination I'll take to my grave.

Okay, I'll probably share it with my kids.

But anyway.

I like to save those nasty, yucky brown bananas for my bread. I pop 'em in the freezer when they start getting really mushy... All that bruising has a way of bringing out the bananas' flavors.

Remember my old friend Ground Chuck? A while back I resigned myself to the fact that he and I just possibly weren't meant to be. Our time had come and gone, like two electrons briefly colliding before spinning off in two completely different orbits.

Well somehow, Ground Chuck's orbit has been seeing its way into my path lately.

This morning he came up to me as I sat at my spot in Studio Control before my newscast. He slinked his way into the room with nary a word, only one of those head nods guys do with their chin... the kind of thing that is sometimes accompanied by a "'Sup?"

Then, after I acknowledged the head nod, he plunked a big, plastic grocery bag on my desk.

"I thought you might want these."

Oh, how I was hopeful. Maybe they were peppers or tomatoes I could use to make salsa. Maybe he brought me doughnuts for breakfast. Maybe it was the new Coach bag I've been pining after.

Hey. A girl can dream, right?

Nope. It was a bunch of yucky, brown bananas. I should have held my tongue but my initial instincts took over and I let out a big Ewww, grosss!

I should have known better. This was his moment. This was his attempt to shore up what wisp of a friendship we had floating out there between us. This was his earthworm, and my single, selfish exclamation totally crushed any hope and thoughtfulness he had bubbling beneath the surface.

If I had an evil twin, she would have bitch slapped me at that moment.

I quickly double backed with a "Thanks, I can't wait to use them. That was really nice of you," but I could see his facial expression bursting with crushed anticipation.

Okay, so maybe I'm not the only totally un-slick person in this relationship, whatever it is.

He came to visit me at my desk after my show and I chatted him up with a thanks and a "Hey, when are we going to the driving range again. We haven't been in forever." It was my way of saying, Hey, I want to be friends with you, too.

Sometimes volumes can be said in the words that aren't.