An Ode to Inappropriate Conversations

So my family came over tonight. And by my family, I mean husband's crazy siblings with their various spouses and younglings, and well, that's always a good time. We love to talk, and we will talk until 3 am if the mood strikes. Yeah, we've done it before, more than once. Now that I'm 30, I'm going to have to really scale back on that kind of behavior just like I had to give up the keggers a few years ago. Kidding, cause I'm like, Mormon. Aren't you?

So there is one thing even better than gossip that seems to happen as the little hand on the clock winds its way ever more toward the right, which should be clockwise in case you're scratchin' your head. We start talking about things that are really better left unsaid. And if you know my brother-in-law T, you know those things generally do not remain unsaid. And just to be fair, my sister-in-law M too. Oh fine, and me three.

You wouldn't think that discussing leaking milky boobs, birth stories, birth control, and various bodily functions and non-functions could be such a rip-roaring good time, but I tell ya, you must not have tried it yet. I really get into those conversations that tend to take place at 2am and leave you hanging your head in shame the next morning. "Did I really say that?", you think to yourself. "What the heck was I thinking?", is the inevitable conclusion that you blearily come to the next morning. And here's the kicker folks, it is all said without the benefit of any form of intoxication to get the conversational wheels a turnin'. Oh me oh my, we Mormons sure know how to party like it's 1999.

So the next time you find yourself sitting with a group of close friends (as these people previously mentioned are my BEST friends in the whole world) and there is a lull in the conversation, here are some trigger words that work best for me and mine: boob, butt (or bum, if you prefer), shower, poop, "my boob is leaking!" (ya, we like, have babies all the time in this group), and well, you get the gist. You'd think we were all in second grade or something, but really I think it's the "witching hour". Ya know, nothing good happens after midnight and all that jazz. Well, the witching hour used to be midnight for us, but as old father time bestows more wrinkles around my eyes than I care to notice each morning, it gets earlier and earlier. I can only conclude that pretty soon, 7pm is going to get reeeaaallllly interesting.

Editor's Note: Some of my "favorite peeps", or "best friends in the world" if you would prefer, were not present last night. You know who you are girls :).