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Potassium

James Bates

    “Come on, sweetheart,” I said, gently trying to entice my nineteen-month-old daughter with a mashed-up banana. “It’s loaded with potassium,” I told her, trying follow her shaking head.
    “No, Daddy,” she said. “No, no, no.”
    Next to me my wife Justine patted me on the back and said, “Brendan, don’t worry about it, honey. She’s not going to starve to death.”
    “But I’m worried about her getting enough of the right kinds of food groups. Potassium helps her nervous system, and she’s growing like a weed. I don’t want to mess up and damage her somehow.”
    Justine laughed. Cooking was a hobby of hers and she knew what she was talking about when she said, “Look, she eats cooked spinach. She likes cucumbers and dried fruit like raisins. She loves peas and lentils. All of those are high in potassium.” She rubbed my shoulder. “You’ve got to lighten up, Bren. Chill out as we used to say.”
    She was right. We’d been married for eight years and we were in our early thirties. Unable to have our own biological children we’d adopted Bea through a church group tied into an orphanage in Calcutta. It took us five years, but it had been worth it. Maybe that’s why I was so worried.
    “I think I’ll go get some work done.”
    I kissed Justine and Bea and went downstairs to my little office in a converted corner of the basement, something we’d done when the pandemic hit almost a year ago. I brought up the will I was working on for a client but really didn’t read it. I couldn’t shake feeling that I was missing something with Bea.
    I went online and looked up potassium-rich foods. I was reading about the benefits of leafy greens being a good source when I got a text message. I checked and it was from Justine. She’d sent a photo. It was of Bea. I laughed and went upstairs and into the kitchen.
    “How are my two girls?” I asked, smiling.
    “We’re fine,” Justine said, grinning.
    Bea didn’t say anything. She couldn’t. She had her mouth full of a banana. And as I watched she crammed more in, giggling the whole time. On the tray of her highchair was another one, yet to be peeled.
    “What the heck?” I asked. “How’d that happen?”
    “I just set the banana done unpeeled and Bea picked it up and started playing with it. I thought I’d try something different and had her help me peel it. Bingo. That’s all it took.”
    I watched my little girl chow down on her banana, getting her much-needed potassium. I can’t help it. I breathed a sigh of relief.
    “Let me try,” I said and held out her banana. And we peeled it together. And she ate most of it. We shared it. It felt good. Tasted good, too. Just like love.

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