I know that I have blogged a lot about how crazy this household can get at times. Today was no different. Well, it was a little odd weird awkward this afternoon because of a conversation that just kind of evolved from nothing. Have you ever listened to a conversation that you know you shouldn’t be privy to? Have you ever been in a situation where you didn’t know if you even wanted to be part of the conversation? Right, then. You will understand the following.
We have been very happy to have Red’s old high school buddy visiting for the last three weeks from Utah. Grady left for the US in December, 2009 to live with his father and go to college and we haven’t seen him in two years, so this has been really exciting for us. Grady was part of the family and a resident on my couch for a year due to erm…let’s just say unstable home conditions. As you all know, to live in this house takes just the right amount of crazy and a good sense of humour. Grady excels in both.
I was just happily sitting here this afternoon reading away with the usual people coming and going around me until one conversation began which caused my ears to prick up like the Easter Bunny on steroids. I am not sure how the topic came up but all of a sudden there it was: nuts. I am not talking the Nobby’s kind either.
All of a sudden I realised I was outnumbered, being the only female in the room and feeling rather awkward. I could not contribute to a conversation like that. I wasn’t even sure that I wanted to be in the conversation but, it all seemed directed at me. Like I needed an education. I have no idea.
With Grady sitting on the couch, Bieber in the kitchen and my husband at the table here is how it all unfolded:
Grady: Remember when I hit Bieber in the balls with the tennis ball?
Bieber: Oh yeah God that hurt
Grady: Well, you were betting me I couldn’t hit you
Bieber: Well, I didn’t know you had such a good aim you [expletive]
Brief discussion about the gore in the film Immortals and then more talk about nuts.Everybody looking at me, explaining the excruciating pain that ensues.
Me: I am sorry, I cannot sympathise with you for obvious reasons.
Grady: It’s like…starts in your stomach and travels up and…heartburn…nausea…
Bieber: Like having a baby Mum I bet, [insert female anatomy comment] (I forgive him, he’s 12)
Me: You think?
Bieber: Oh right, you wouldn’t know, you had a c-section (Not forgiven)
Me: Thank goodness, we thought we were having a bowling ball for a baby
/denied and dismissed
stayoutofmyhead 
Comments on: "That’s just nuts!" (12)
I’m almost embarrassed to admit how many of these comparisons/recounting I have been privy to due to the amount of brothers and male friends I have. I think they sort of forget that we don’t care about their marshmallows as much as they do.
Cassandra, your reply has been such a boost. After I posted that little gem I thought to myself…Vixy, why? Nuts? Really? As for the marshmallows – very funny. In our family language, they are called gwuggies. We have young children so the descriptions of things are weird and colourful. Pet names for things – unbelieveable. I can feel a post coming on 🙂
They really just do not have a clue, do they? Lord, love ’em. Or take them outside and beat them with sticks. Either way. 😉
Thanks for coming to my place today.
For sure 🙂 I really enjoyed my visit to your place, it was fun. Could we have chocolate muffins next time?
You know, I had some of the awkward female-type conversations, growing up with four sisters. You know what I mean … cramps, bloating, napkins, pads, the WHOLE lot of discussions some of my friends never heard at home.
Looking back, though, that helped me better understand women. So … now that I’ve worked it through all by myself … it was a good thing. hehehe
My brothers used to run screaming from the room like they were on fire when a tampon ad would come on TV. My youngest brother pointed out that it was because the girls in the commercial were hot, and now they were ruined because he’d had to hear them talk about absorbency and leakage for 35 seconds. He had no idea that ten years later he’d be watching Activia commercials…
Ahhh mj, the other side of the coin and point well taken. I guess I never thought it from that perspective…:) (four sisters? yikes!!!)
Haha…having a bowling ball! Love your interesting family moment 🙂
Thank you sunshine, yes, we always said he had a ‘bulb head’…it’s huge. he tried to weigh it once!
First off, thanks for checking out my site the other day.
I really enjoyed this post. Mainly because there is simply no way getting whacked in the “family jewels” could compare to giving birth. The evidence is against it.
Get whacked in the family jewels = walking around hunched up and in pain for 10 minutes to maybe a day?
Give birth = minimum hospital stay (usually) 24 hours, no walking normally for at least a few days and (here anyway) no driving for two weeks or lifting anything heavier than the baby (or 8-10# depending on the doc) for two weeks as well
Mind, I had a ten-plus pound baby…
Nice post. Very funny!
My pleasure Shannon. A ten-pound plus baby??? Yikes! I am not worthy 🙂 I think the thing is there is no way women can relate to what it’s like for a man to be ‘whacked in the family jewels’ (love your description) and no way for a man to understand what pregnancy/labour/childbirth is like. As I had to have c-sections with all my babies (after a full labour with the first two mind you) add to your list, hurts to cough/laugh/burp/pass wind for weeks, 3-7 days hospital stay, risk of infection from stitches/staples and the emotional trauma of being cut open and feeling like you’ve ‘failed’ in some respects. Don’t get me started about the other fun things about being a woman! I am glad you enjoyed the post and thanks for visiting.
Well, if I’d known she was gonna be that big, I would have taken her out the front. Doesn’t matter which way they come out, body functions are gonna hurt for awhile. Then there’s nursing (to which I said, “I thought the pain was supposed to stop after giving birth!”).
Big shocker here – I had stitches too. No way you failed. The point is to get the kid out of the body cavity. Unless you’re still in the hospital with a wriggling bowling ball in your belly, I say, “mission accomplished.”
BTW, I had an umbilical hernia. What a pain the surgery was (teensy thing it was too), I can’t imagine the recovery if they’d had to cut me open more than the one inch. Any woman who’s had a C gets kudos in my book.