I am not to be blamed for the types of conversations that go on in my office, but let me qualify all statements herein: I share an office with two men.
Sam and Pat (How ambiguous are those names? You wouldn’t know they were men unless I said so.) have their moments where they do some whispering and laughing in that quiet way that says, “Ssshhhhh. Don’t let Kelly know what we’re talking about.” But they include me in the really good conversations and love me forever for introducing them to the sports-bra-bounce-factor video.
Everytime he comes into the office my face hurts from smiling at him and my ovaries feel a bit pinched in that “Just one more baby” kind of way. I usually come home and ask Ken if we can have one more. He looks at me and dryly asks, “Whose baby did you just sniff?”
However, Sam mostly talks to me about the women he dates and asks pertinent questions about what to do in certain situations. Like the latest gal who dumped him in an e-mail. We discussed it and decided Sam needed to take the High Road (”I’m sorry you feel that way… it’s too bad… I wish you the best.” kind of crap that he didn’t really believe, but wanted to look like the good guy here.) When she responded back she felt bad and wanted him back and then HE STARTED TO CAVE.
“Sam! Don’t do this! You already said she was just like your ex-wife. C’mon. This is an easy one to figure out, man.”
“Yeah, but I do like her. We had fun together.”
“Don’t be that guy. Don’t shoplift the pootie.”
“WHAT? I don’t think I even know what that means. What does it mean?”
“You haven’t seen Jerry Maguire? Geez. Do I have to explain everything?”
Whereupon, I do explain everything and then Pat walks in mid graphic conversation.
Surely Sam and I looked up sheepishly like children caught cussing for the first time and trying out the bad words in various phrases.
On another note, Morgan asked me last night about what the term ‘rape’ means. I couldn’t come up with anything that was satisfying his inquisitive albeit immature mind and he kept pressing me. Finally I just tried, “Forcing someone to have sex against their will” and he pushed even further about how you can force sex and when I was just about to answer he switched up on me.
“Wait! You know what I want to know?”
I begin to pray silently that he wonders how peanut butter is made or how many keys there are on a piano. Something I can be really creative in explaining.
“Do all blue sperm have tails, Mommy?”
“Blue sperm? OH! You mean a blue sperm whale?”
(Thank God! He wants to talk marine biology!)
“Well, the blue sperm they always show on our sex ed videos? And are they really blue? And where do they go? What happens to them? I’m talking about sex, Mom. Why are you bringing ocean animals into this?”
This is what sex has wrought. I suppose that somehow, in a twisted turn of events of the cosmic universe and the earth spinning off it’s axis, I deserve this.
March 25, 2006 @ 10:00 am | Filed under Uncategorized | Permalink |
