Bananas

My little brother is obsessed with bananas. 

He's twelve. 

That makes it slightly less weird. 

He calls ordinary people "Bob" when laughing

and his current favorites "banana." 

It's his go-to honorific. Touching. 

No, he's absolutely enamored by bananas. 

I don't remember ever seeing him eat one,

I feel like I should, 

but he did write a poem about bananas yesterday 

with my Jane Austen poetry magnets

I encouraged him to use. 

(There's not a banana magnet, no. 

He used a pink expo marker 

and the "s.") 

The kid's a sleepwalker, too. 

He talks, walks, laughs, and pees in sinks in his sleep,

if the bananas aren't weird enough. 

I woke him up to say goodnight this week. 

He smiled, grabbed me in a hug (still asleep), then said, "I have you," 

and, "mm, bananas," when I broke free.

For the record, 

I don't like bananas,

and I called him a monkey way before this phase.