“Stop the car!” I shouted again.

“We’re almost there,” replied my husband.

“I’m not kidding! I can’t do this!” I begged.

“But Mom, it’s the best banana bread in the whole world;”

“We’re so close;”

“Just a few more miles;”

“Try closing your eyes,” said my four teenage daughters respectively.

This day seemed like another perfect day in Maui when we started the treacherous drive to Hana on a quest for the old Hawaiian woman who sold banana bread at a stand. Now it felt like a nightmare. I gave up and opened my door. What choice did I have? That got my husband’s attention. He stopped the minivan. I jumped out.

“What are you doing? Get back in the minivan,” he ordered.

“I told you. I can’t handle this road. You ignored me. Now I’m out, so what are you going to do about it?” I felt so clever.

My husband and the girls had a pow-wow as I stood defiantly, slowly regaining my composure. Then I heard, “Honey, we won’t be long.”

“WHAT?” I screamed, but they were gone.

I hiked down the road to a wide spot with shade. While I waited, I thought about what a good wife I had been for over twenty years to “that” man who drove off. I thought how combined I had spent 39 ½ months pregnant and 45 hours in labor with “those” children. I had been to every recital, play, and conference. I withstood many sleepless nights. I had been vomited, spit-up and peed on. I never mocked or abandoned any of “them” when they were scared. And here was my reward.

An eternity later, I spotted the minivan and waved. The inside reeked of banana. Crumbs were everywhere. I saw two loaves of the Holy Grail banana bread sitting on the seat.

I asked, “If it’s so good, why did you only buy two loaves?”

“We bought six loaves,” they said.

“Where did you put the others?” I inquired.

“We ate them,” they admitted looking away.

“It really is the best in the world,” they reminded me.

I climbed back into the minivan and simply stated, “I can’t believe you chose banana bread over me.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, the old woman at the stand asked where our mother was. When we told her, she took our bread away and lectured us. We almost left empty handed. She made us promise never to do anything like it again and to apologize to you. We’re sorry.”

“We know it was probably wrong to abandon you like that.”

“Do you want some bread?”

“You won’t believe how good it is.”

I still can’t eat banana bread.