Yes We Have No Bananas

The grandchildren in my family call my mom Nana or Nana Banana*.  I always assumed that she had selected the title of Nana because one of her grandmothers had also been a Nana, although she says that my oldest niece just started calling her Nana and it stuck.  It is also great because it differentiates her from the other grandparents because she has a unique name and Chris's mum can go by Grandma whereas the grandfathers are stuck following up Grandpa with their first names.**
Nana or more specifically NANANA! is one of Jack's favourite word/sounds right now.  At first I'd encourage him by saying, "Nana isn't here right now" or bringing him a picture of my mom and pointing to it, or when my mom is around agreeing and pointing directly at her.

Last Friday, I was at my friend C's house and we discovered what Jack really means when he screams NANANA!  I was enjoying a glass of white wine that Jack really wanted to get a hold of, no matter where we moved it to he would yell Nana and chase after it.  We had a good laugh testing the theory and had to slow down when it became apparent that tears were imminent.

Source: flickr.com Via: quinn.anya On: creativecommons.org

Later that evening I went over to my parents house and told my mom about the math equation Nana = Wine.  She was amused. Then Jack surprised us.  He started shouting Nana and rapidly army crawling towards something new***.  My mom loves dark chocolate and keeps a bowl of it in the corner of the living room.  As a fellow dark chocolate aficionado I love the smell of chocolate in that room, and apparently so does Jack.  Only he wants to shove his face in it, slap it and then throw it all over the floor rather than eat it.

My mom was fully on board with being associated with wine and chocolate - the finer things in life.  Then on Monday Jack started screaming Nana again.  This time at a lamp cord that he desperately wanted to explore and likely electrocute or hang himself on.  So we've determined that Nana doesn't mean wine or chocolate, it means, "Why won't you let me get what I want?" or "Forbidden Fruit" - AKA Nana Banana.


*As suggested (often) by my brother much to my mother's chagrin.
**They aren't nearly as original as my good friend E, who instead of Aunt E wants to be called Princess Unicorn or my (female) cousin K who wants to be called Uncle Jokes. Maybe letting people choose was a mistake.
***He still refuses to crawl like a normal baby and smacks the floor as hard as he can doing mini push-ups across the room to his intended destination.