Somehow, I always end up on the phone with my cousin when she’s in the bathroom. It’s not that she’s in the bathroom more than the average woman in her 30s, it just works out that way.
She’s not particularly shy about having a conversation with you in person while she’s on the throne either, come to think of it.
Anyway, I ask her if I’ll be seeing her next week when we head to town.
“Sure,” she says. “My Porsche should be delivered by then.”
“Your what?” I ask, surprised. She’s got high school boys who play sports, and she’s always hauling half the team around. I’m curious as to why she’d try to cram them into a sports car. Maybe she bought it for the oldest, who turned 16?
Surely not. When she was 16, we were driving around in her busted gray hoopty, blasting Snoop Dogg on cassette and feeling pretty fancy, even if the previously flooded car did smell like a sheep’s ass.
“My pole. For my hallway,” she clarifies. Her pole? I mean, I know in our advancing age that exercise is important and all, but pole dancing? In the hallway? That’s a little out there, even for my family.
Maybe it’s a fireman’s pole? To get from the game room upstairs to the bathroom downstairs more quickly? I mean, we’ve already established that she’s in there a lot.
“I’m sorry, your huh?” I ask again.
“My floor,” she says, slightly annoyed. “In the hallway. We’re finally getting it put in.”
Well, that’s logical. They’ve been renovating their house for quite sometime now. Porsches and poles make little sense, but of course you need a floor. Everybody has floors. Whew.
“Ok,” I say, relieved. “Well, I’m going to let you finish your poop and I’m going to work on some stuff online.”
With that, we hang up. My husband, who has been eavesdropping, looks at me curiously.
“Poles and poop huh?” he asks.
“I was talking to Jenny,” I say.
“Ah,” he says. “Well that explains it.”
This made me laugh out loud but then again most of your bathroom posts do.
The pole was too funny.
The fact that you wrote “most of your bathroom posts” made me realize that I might need to blog about something else…whoops.
What can I say? I like potty humor. I am a 12-year-old boy.
NO! Do not stop writing them. They are hilarious and I can totally relate (as most of us moms can).
Haha! Awesome!! I do like the idea of a fireman’s pole in the house if I had a 2-storey one…..
I would fall off that thing every time. I’d rather have the Porsche.
I am laughing so hard. I know you both and this conversation doesn’t even surprise me but it does point to one of the things I love about y’all’s relationship. You are both absolutely yourselves. I love that your friendship gives you both the freedom to be absolutely yourself with each other.
I’m glad to have people in my life who encourage me to let my freak flag fly.
Hahaha! I often hear things incorrectly as well. I blame it on other people mumbling though, not my own hearing.
I get embarrassed having to ask people to repeat themselves. It’s probably why I hate talking on the phone!
You two sound like a riot. Also, I think it’s been at least ten years since I’ve heard or seen the word “hoopty”.
Oh my gosh. One day when she’s up here for Ruffle Butt, you’ll have to come over and hang out. It’s insane. Same with my sister or my other cousin Joaney. We make ourselves cry.
Ha ha ha. That gave me a nice chuckle. I wonder if I need my hearing checked sometimes too… the things I hear make me shake my head!!!
I have about a million posts like this in my head, and some are really inappropriate because I really do have the mind of a teen boy. Ugh. My brain is rotten.
Funny! That’s what happens when I talk to my Jenny on the phone too. She’s hard to understand on the phone. I love this post
We tend to talk really fast too, so I guess that helps with the confusion! If only I could talk her into using Skype!
Conversations like these are my favorite. Its like real life autocorrect! I like her already
Real life autocorrect. Ha!
Those are the conversations that make my day!
It was definitely the highlight of my evening!
For the record, I would MUCH rather have new flooring in my hallway than a Porsche.
(I’m not going to tell you how I feel about a pole, though.)
Haha!! A porsche and a pole? According to your hearing, she’s living it up! LOL
Classic! Those are the conversations we’ll look back on fondly and when we really do lose our hearing. “Pole” and “poop” in the same sentence takes me back to that awful toilet auguring incident of 2005. {shudder}
Poop, Porsche and pole. Too funny!! I’m just glad she didn’t poop in a Porsche!!