This morning I cut up a banana and ate it in my granola. I'm sure people do it every day, but the banana opened a whole little drawer of memories for me.
When I was little, my brothers and I ate cold cereal with bananas all the time. But pretty soon one of us simply did away with the cereal, and for weeks we lived on milk and bananas. It was like heaven in a bowl. Sprinkle on a little sugar when mums back was turned, and it was quite the feast! But like a song that's overplayed on the radio, I eventually ate too many bowls of bananas and milk and for a long time couldn't stand the odd yellow fruit. I worked myself up to the point of being able to eat a banana, but only if it was slathered in peanut butter, or disguised in the form of my sisters banana bread.
I haven't touched them in a long time, but this morning the bright little bananas on my counter beckoned to me, and I gave in.
I think I have made my peace with bananas.