Your name is Banana ?

There was a child kept looking through the door window strip of my Californian office. I saw here out of the corner of my eye – usually when I was on the phone actually – perhaps I had been disturbing her.  When I looked up, she would pull back out of view quickly. A few times in the course of the afternoon, this happened.  Always when I was talking loudly on the phone.

Some time later, I had stepped out, and equally the little girl came out from her mothers office, it seemed, and blocked my way in the corridor. 

“What’s your name ? I asked.

The girl, steady on her feet, probably around 7 years old, I thought.

“Brianna”, she replied quickly

“Banana ?”

“No Brianna !”

“Banana ? -mmm I never met anyone named Banana before” I teased.

She went back into her mom’s office.  I went onto another office.  I had got talking, once again in a loud Aussie voice I guess, to a big American guy – you know – also has a football helmet in miniature on his desk – and then the little girl burst in – hands on hips –

“Why don’t you talk regular ?.. she said. Then ran from the room with a smile.

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