In this corner we have Irene. Light-weight, 61 kg. Experienced mother of six and grandmother of fifteen, veteran of all types of food and mashed bananas.
And in this corner we have Nathan. A heavy-weight, 9.5 kg sumo wrestler, with five and a half months of experience in fighting people who are trying to put food into his mouth.
Irene starts full of self-confidence. No reason to be worried. This is Nathan, her gentle, quiet, tame grandson. This isn’t his temperamental twin, Ilan “The Terrible”.
She advances with a spoon of mashed banana in the direction of his mouth. Nathan, who wasn’t born yesterday, reacts easily. He lifts his right arm in an easy defensive gesture, swinging it from the center to the outside. He bumps Irene’s hand and the spoon with the banana goes flying in the air.
Irene, surprised, assumes that this is “beginner’s luck”. Still smiling, she advances straight ahead, from the center, with another spoon-full.
Nathan, who already saw that this adversary is easy, swings his left arm this time. Same result. More banana on the wall and in grandma’s hair.
Now the real battle begins. Irene tries to feint. She advances with the spoon and observes Nathan’s defense. When he starts to lift his arm, she retreats quickly and attacks again from another direction. When Nathan adjusts his defensive move, she retreats and changes direction again. Soon they are both moving their arms with great speed – grandma attacks, Nathan defends, she retreats quickly and changes the direction of her attack.
After some twenty such attacks; after some ten successful defenses by Nathan; after some ten spoonfuls of mashed banana are splashed proudly on the wall, on Nathan and on grandma – she abandons the plate and the spoon and flees desperately from the ring…
Nathan wins by default.