Mangos remind me of my mother and the little things she did to show her love for us when we were growing up. I remember the times she'd tell me she has a treat for me and my brother, bringing home the fruit from the market, letting me smell it (and ooooh it smelt so good when it gets all ripe for eating!) Then she would cut it up for us.
Now, anybody who has ever cut up a mango knows that there are two sides of flesh and a seed in the middle. If there are three people sharing that mango, somebody's going to get the seed. And there isn't much flesh on the seed at all. At my young age it didn't quite occur to me that my mum always gave me and my brother the two sides of juicy mango cubes because it was the best part of the mango. Once when she was cutting up the mango I asked her which piece she wanted, and when she told me that she liked the seed I took it at face value. Only in hindsight do you realize how much your parents really want good things for you, and have made sacrifices all their lives for you, even down to giving you the best part of the fruit.
Love you mum.