After brisk walking along the cool side street of Mariapolis in Tagaytay City a couple of weeks ago, I, along with two sister-friends, went to the market and brought some lanzones and a bunch of bananas. I love to eat these teeny-weeny bananas. And I usually never leave this comfort zone without eating or bringing home a bunch of this yummy fruit, which we call “saying batah-batah,” in our local dialect.
On our way back to our private quarters while riding on a three-wheeled motor vehicle, I was not able to wait longer to fill my tummy with this potassium-provider fruit. So, I picked one banana within reach behind the driver’s seat.
“Put it back, it’s mine!”
This sign dangled from the motor vehicle grabbed my attention. I giggled impishly as I clicked my cellphone and took a picture of these baby bananas with a “warning note” that…
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