Dinner Conversation

I have been at a retreat for work since Tuesday. I usually read/comment from work (I know....I'm a horrible person). I have been absent and hope to catch up over the weekend. I did want to post something just to keep in the habit of posting. So here is a little story about the type of dinner conversation we have in my family.

Two weeks a ago I fell while I was walking up some stairs. I got a big rug-burn on my elbow. For the past two weeks I have had to endure questions made in suggestive tones, "How did you do that? Hmmm?." And when my answer was not sexy enough I get the, "Oh, sure you did". It went form "Cute" to "Shut the fuck up" in about 2 days.

This weekend at my parent's house I was telling my sister and her husband this. She started to laugh and asked her Husband if her remembered the rug burns? He laughed back "How could I ever forget?" and proceeded to tell me this story.

Before the story, what you have to know about my father is that he is the kind of man for whom subtlety is completely lost. I had my parents over for dinner last month and when my Dad would say something critical about our parenting or the house or whatever and my Mom would kick him under the table. He'd scream out, "Damn it. Why are you kicking me?". Yea, classy.

The other thing about my Father is that he is a letch. Always ogling the ladies. Young and old. Always making comments about "her big ones" or so and so's camel toe. I know more about my own conception than any child should know.

A long time ago my BIL had rug burns on both his knees. My Day asked him what happened. BIL tried to change the subject. Dad was relentless, would not let it go. Eventually BIL made up that he was moving a dresser just to satisfy my Dad. Keep in mind my Dad had no idea that BIL was trying to change the subject let along WHY he's try to change the subject. So, of course it did not end there. Dad kept at it. " I don't see how that would be possible. That doesn't make sense. How'd you get rug burns on your knees doing that?" Finally, my sister just yelled at him, "We were screwing, ok?". And flashed her own set of rub burns on her elbows. And he was rendered speechless.

This is the man who once ran out into the living-room with my mom's ginormous panties on his head and yelled, "Let's party!" to a room full of people.

This is the man who once said of his dog, "I love him so much. If I was I dog I'd be gay" while my boyfriend of the time looked on in terror.

Payback is a slutty bitch and, apparently, so is my sister.