And, then there are bananas. I despise bananas with the white, hot, burning passion of a thousand suns. If a banana goes in my mouth, it must come back out - sometimes, and quite unfortunately, a little bit involuntarily. My stepmom tried to "hide" some bananas in a frozen jello dish once. Well, I'm here to tell you, when a frozen banana goes in your mouth, it thaws out just like cryogenic magic. My father-in-law tried to hide a little, tiny bit of banana in a bowl of fruit salad at a family gathering. As fate would have it, I got it. And, I knew it. And, everyone could see it chewed up and spit on my plate.
It is absolutely the texture of the vile thing that I can't stand - I love banana bread (because all the mush has been cooked out). Elizabeth got a banana milkshake at Sonic one time and needed me to get it started up the straw for her. Well, some of it came through the straw, as it was bound to do, and it was like a thousand little loogies in my mouth - it was a horrifying experience. She has to get her own milkshake started now, or wait for it to melt until it's not too thick - either way. It really doesn't matter to me.
Well, a year or so ago Spencer decided he didn't like bananas anymore. And, as Shawn says, when it comes to all foods, I put my foot down about trying it. Spinach? Have a bite! Green beans? Have a bite! Sweet potatoes? Have a bite! Shepherd's pie? Have a bite! Bananas? No. You're good. You can throw it away.
So. Here's the point of this entire post: Yesterday morning Shawn grabbed a banana on the way out the door. Spencer looked back and said, "I want a banana, too." Then he ate it. I have never felt so betrayed.