Family Circus

I took the liberty of adding an extra day to my 3-day weekend, and extending my time to include both Friday and Monday. Four days to relax, unwind, and hang out with…the guys :D Gemini’s friends were all heading up to a cottage to hang out and do stuff that guys do, and I somehow got an invitation. So I’m chatting with Gemini the night before we leave (cause I am sort of like a guy in that I don’t pack in advance) and ask what I should bring in the way of clothes and food etc. He says not to worry about food, unless I wanted to pick up a bag of Nachos, a bag of Doritos, and a jug of salsa. This is no problem in my mind. I don’t mind picking that up, but I ask “OK, but what are we going to EAT?!”

He says something about picking up hamburgers and hotdogs. I say OK, and hang up. But then it occurs to me that I don’t really eat hamburgers and hotdogs, and especially not three times a day for three days. So I call him back. I offer to make a lasagna. It’s a cheap way to feed 7 people (6 of which are growing men), and Mama Dukes would be making one for Robbie to take fishing as well. We are good to our men. I also mention that some other types of food might be nice…

In any case, the weekend went something like this: drinking, shooting things, playing sports, driving ATVs, playing cards, sleeping, playing sports, shooting things, drinking, sleeping, drinking, shooting things…etc. You get the point.

It was totally testosterone induced fun. Every conversation consisted of someone else “busting balls” (in feminine terms “talking trash?” about one of the people in the room, and everyone laughing hysterically until someone could think of a way to turn the mockery toward someone else. I was included in this “fun” by the way, but I think I handled it well, considering I’m usually take things very personally, joking or not. My reasoning – because every joke stems from the truth, or at least a partial truth. So I got made fun of basically for not being very fun, which is totally true most of the time. And not being able to make jokes. This one was maybe even a little bit funny to me by the end of the weekend, because I know I often make jokes that people don’t get. Not because it’s over their heads or some other witty reason…just cause I’m terrible at it, and I don’t smile. That last part --- the not smiling bit…that was new to me. I didn’t realize I don’t smile until it was pointed out to me every time. Then I realized that they were right, and that’s why I suck. So I laughed.

There was some trash-talk about people’s hobbies, or jobs, or the way they talk, their background, even the way they cook bacon. The last one is a good story, and there may have been a bit of backlash because boys will be boys and they are touchy about their ability to cook meat. There was definitely storming out of the cottage and shooting things over this mockery. I laughed too, so I’m just as guilty. One of the guys couldn’t even speak without his comment being followed by a brief silence, then someone saying “Oh comic relief…Bah hahahahahaa!!” Every time too. I would have cried to be honest. But he laughed with everyone, and eventually started just tacking it onto his sentence, to save the guys the breath I guess. We all still laughed.

I can tell you though, that I wasn’t upset about the lack of estrogen. There’s nothing more amusing than waking up in the morning to one guy running into someone else’s room, yanking down their pants and screaming “Ass in your face!! Ass in your face!!” Or hearing about (and even seeing in some cases) every single bowl movement of the weekend.

I fit much better into conversations about how stupid women can be, and how many seconds you can hold a belch. I was happy not to put on make-up or real-people clothes for three days. I didn’t mind getting dirty, lying on the ground, walking through the marshes, and shooting at pop cans all day. I should have sooo been born with a penis!! Except for the part where they don’t make sure the poop goes down, and the serious lack of hand washing. That part I could do without!

In my next incarnation though, I think I should definitely have male anatomy. And I better be well-endowed too, to make up for all this time I’ve lost (and having to deal with boobs and a period for all these years). I hope my lack of humor doesn’t kill any chance I might have of getting an invitation to the next weekend away. Maybe I’ll touch up on the inappropriate-but-generally-hilarious mockery so that next time, I can fit in a little better :)