This family is the gift that keeps on giving for a writer like myself. It’s no wonder that I’m not the only writer in the family, or the only one that tries to keep track of their shenanigans through storytelling because it takes a whole trove of people to catalogue all the material. Family dinners are a pool of stories and last night was no exception.
Semen was not the only word that was used over and over and over again across the dinner table. Here are a list of the others:
It was a family dinner at my husband’s aunt’s house to visit a cousin from Wisconsin that was visiting (and delivering a cart load of cheese, thank you soooo much). Everyone was eating and I was upstairs playing with my son. He didn’t want to eat, and instead of starting the epic battle that we face every night at our own dinner table, we thought we’d just let him have his way so everyone else could hear themselves think, not hear the tantrum of an unruly toddler. As I sat there I heard a muffled conversation taking place below me.
I thought to myself, “Did someone just say vulva?”
“No, it must have been Volvo. Someone bought a Volvo.”
I continue playing with my son, then he decides to take the Barbie Jeep and a car load of naked Barbies and Kens downstairs to torment the crowd. As I head down the stairs I hear it again, vulva. Then it’s like a barrage of lady parts: Volvo, no vulva, soft cervix, and uterus. Then I heard semen, semen, semen.
They are discussing cows, and I know this before I enter the room, but it’s still pretty funny considering no one recognizes the absurdity of this as they eat their pizza and salad. Not surprisingly, the conversation was started by my sister-in-law, the vet, who doesn’t have an internal filter when it comes to her job. She describes things as they are, even though they may seem odd dinner conversation, which leads me to wonder, “Does my OBGYN talk about lady parts at the dinner table?” I certainly hope not.
My sister-in-law had attended an AI (Artificial Insemination) training that day, so they were discussing how it went. She mentioned that there weren’t enough cows to go around. Remember, this is artificial insemination, so they are practicing the procedure. If practice makes perfect, then a small number of cows are probably a little irritable today to say the least. That’s where the last term came in. Some call it practice, others call it gang rape with an arm length glove and a sperm straw.
I turned to my sister-in-law and told her I now knew the title to my blog for today: “I’ve Never Heard the Word ‘Semen’ Used so Many Times at the Dinner Table.”
She laughed, then thirty seconds later said it again, and chuckled, “Ooops! I said it again!”
I’ve lost her to the other side….
The rest of the evening was just as entertaining as my husband’s grandparents, Fred and Willie, bickered about who irritated the other the most. Fred clearly irritates Willie on purpose, or that’s my theory because my husband is just like him and we have the same argument.
Clearly Fred tries to irritate her. She said last night that they had been married for 68 years, and they lasted that long because they worked well together.
“We still do. I’m his legs and he’s my eyes,” she joked.
Fred’s response: “She made a mistake in 1947, and she’s just too stubborn to admit when she’s wrong, hahaha.”
The rest of the evening was filled with more food, more laughs, more naked Barbie and Ken dolls, and my toddler shaking his butt at “Great-Great-Great” Grandma Willie and then getting jabbed and chased with cane in tow, as she shook it at him in return while he ran through the house screaming. It’s always entertaining around this family.