World’s Cutest Baby has a beloved toy we call Banana Man. It’s basically a life-sized, “stuffed animal” version of a banana, only it has a tiny head, teeny little eyes, and a mouth. It also appears to be wearing a stocking cap. Who created this? I don’t know, but I’m willing to bet that hallucinogenic drugs were involved in some part of the creative process.
Technically, I think it looks more like a Banana Woman, but Banana Man is just catchier. If you wanted to be completely accurate, you could call it, “Banana Gender-Neutral Being”, but that’s even less catchy.
While mall walking with WCB the other day, I looked into the stroller to discover that Banana Man had disappeared and was God-knows-where, probably alone and frightened, fending for himself. I never realized how attached I’d become to him/her during our short time together. I tried not to panic; I tried not to blame WCB for flinging Banana Man to the floor; I tried not to blame myself for not keeping a closer watch on my child’s artificial fruit.
Just when I was imagining how our lives would be forever changed by the absence of Banana Man, I found him: Someone had picked him up off of the floor and set him atop a mall signpost. We had a joyful reunion: WCB celebrated by trying to eat him/her.
When my husband got home from work, I met him at the door. “We almost LOST Banana Man at the mall today,” I said. He gasped in horror.
Banana Man is home now, resting comfortably.