Who can resist an invitation from a friendly banana?

On the TV downstairs teen stars are enthusiastically butchering Christmas carols. Upstairs the cats are howling and harrying one another into an epic feline grabass tourney, and here in my room, there is a weary-eyed dame dutifully sculpting Word docs of her own prose and smiling over a decidedly playful banana.

I don’t know who it was at Chiquita that decided bananas are playful, but I deeply appreciate his/her brainwave. Who, after all, could refuse this? C’mon, you cylindrical sweetmeat! you bauble of baboons! you tempting tropical tasty! Let’s play!

The precocious, curious, sniffing banana.

The precocious, curious, sniffing banana.

If you must know: yes, I just ate it. In an extremely manly, post-gym protein shake.

*Note: I am now back up to almost full pushup prowess! I project one more week until I can pump out the kinds of badass, Lady Hulkian sets I was doing this time last year in Spain. W00t!

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