Today’s headline is my favorite palindrome.  As a Philadelphia-area-resident who has a son who hates bananas, it resonates.

One great feature of family reunions is that you find other people with the same likes/dislikes as you.   Banana-hating has been found on the 18th chromosome of our DNA.  It is expressed most clearly in the forms of my son Hugh and brother Richard.

Hugh shared a story from third grade (calling Mr. M!) when he was playing tag at recess.  A kid shoved him, Hugh fell.  His hand landed in a blackish mass on the ground.  The gunk proved to be a rotten banana.  Hugh started gagging.  He went to the nurse and told her he was feeling queasy.  She listened to his tale of woe, then rasped out harshly:

“Let me get this straight.  You feel SICK….because you TOUCHED…a BANANA.”  She gave him a Tum (singular) and sent him packing.

While the rest of us guffawed at this story, Uncle Richard took Hugh’s side.  I think he was ready to file a lawsuit for school nurse incompetence.   Banana Solidarity.  Another reason to love family reunions.

 

 

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