Generational Banana Love

My love affair with bananas must have started shortly after my birth because it seems to be a generational thing. My daughter spit out every Gerber-strained fruit that was not bananas, just like Grandma did in the end. They dribbled down her chin but I was not embarrassed. The only time bananas embarrassed me was in my high school sex ed class when Mrs. Wiley showed us things I was certain my mother didn’t want me to know. She never would have looked at a banana the same. I never looked at Mrs. Wiley the same, that’s for sure. Bananas go from generation to generation, except when you use them and generations just... die.