Well, I've decided I like bananas (or banana-anas, as we call them here). Mommy and Daddy caved in to my daycare teachers' recommendations and bought me some of the nasty smelling pre-made bananas. I eat them all up! Maybe it's because Daddy sings the banana-ana song to me while I'm eating. I laugh and smile, and Mommy sticks the bananas in. Mommy is worried about me though. If I prefer store-bought, chemically-altered bananas to the real thing, what's next? Kraft macaroni and cheese rather than home-made Velveeta macaroni and cheese? Growing up to be a mullet-wearing Nascar driver? I better be careful, considering what my hair already looks like! 
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