Chastised Chit Chat

I never know what to say at parties. It might have something to do with the fact that my husband has all these normal foo foo friends who talk about hand soap and manicures. Okay, his friends are men and he met them all in college.  They talk about interesting this, I suppose, but I always get stuck with all the wives, and the other wives’ friends who are talking about buying American Girls dolls because they are a really good investment, and how to completely fund college for your kids by purchasing a large collection of beanie babies. 

Actually, I have no idea what they could possibly be talking about. From a distance they seem completely animated and engaged in sincere interest. But whenever I’m around and open my mouth and try to make conversation I just get this look.

 Followed by a very long and uncomfortable silence.

So therefore, I just try to avoid parties at all possible cost. But I had to go to the family Christmas at grandma’s house. And not knowing what else to say, I just told everyone that I had worms. This is the look that my mom gave me.

Of course I went into detail and explained about how I just got a box of composting red worms in the mail and I had made a place for them to eat my vegetable peelings and apple cores  in a bucket in my kitchen.

I mean seriously, some people don’t believe that people can read minds, but I don’t think that they are aware of their own facial expressions that totally give away just exactly what they are thinking.  I know exactly what people are thinking.  They’re thinking, “Dear God Almighty, Dottie’s family is just as crazy as she is.”  Of course Dottie and her husband thought my worm bin was totally awesome, but then again, Dottie feeds the opossums and armadillos that wander into her backyard.  It’s a wonder she doesn’t have leprosy.

As for the rest of the family

I explained that you can shred up the cardboard center of the toilet paper rolls, and old newspaper and they’ll eat it right up and turn it into wonderful dirt to make your garden vegetables grow bigger and more tastier, but I get the feeling that these people neither grow nor eat their veg. 

My mother is phobic of fresh veg and fruit.  We took her blueberry picking when she visited us in Washington and she freaked out and yelled at my kid and told him to stop eating so many blueberries.  They have no problem loading him up on cheesecake and soda pop, and may I mention that she and my dad both have health problems.

I told my mom that my youngest kid ate every single grape in the backyard last summer, because he loved them so much.  She totally freaked out and asked if they gave him a stomach ache.  I mean seriously, what does she think people ate before Styrofoam bread was invented?

This morning my kid said he was really super hungry and he asked me to cut his sandwich into six slices instead of the usual four.

 

 

 

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