I’m having a hard time coming up with a title to fully capture the mirth we experienced last night at our annual St. Patty’s Day dinner party with our friends Jim and Nora.

I was tempted to title it “We had The Vaginas for dinner last night.” But no… that’s just askin’ for trouble, like the time I mentioned those stow away undies that hitch-hiked their way to church with me in the back of my jeans. Who knew there were so many people who google things like “dirty panties”??? {Ewwwww.}

Why don’t I just tell you what happened and you can help me come up with a better title.

But let me just preface it by announcing that it is now time for another installment of:

Real Conversations, Really Bad Parenting™

It was late afternoon. I was preparing the corned beef and cabbage for our dinner party, and I was trying to get the kids to help me tidy up the family room at the same time. The clock was ticking and I was running behind.

Me: “Kids, I need you to help me straighten up the house. We’re having friends over for dinner.”

Kids: “YAY! Friends for dinner! Who’s coming?”

Me: “Our friends Nora and Jim.”

A Kid: “Do they have kids?”

Me: “Yes, but their kids are grown. It’s just Nora and Jim coming for dinner… no kids. Would you please just go put your stuff away?”

Another Kid: “Well, do we know them?”

Me: “YES. {sheesh!} You’ve met them a million times. They live right around the corner. They come over every year for St. Patrick’s day. Please… enough chit chat. Go clean.”

Nature Boy (the 11 year old): “Are they bringing anything? Dessert?”

Me: “YES. I’m sure they will bring something. Go clean. I’m trying to chop cabbage and you are distracting me. If I sever a finger it will be the worst dinner party ever.”

Mini-Me (8 year old girl who struggles with telling time): “What time will they be here.”

Me: “Six o’clock. GO AWAY.”

Mini-Me: “Is that when the big hand or the little hand is on the six?”

Me: “Little. The big hand will be on the twelve. Scram.”

Nature Boy: “What is their last name?”

Me: “FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. Are you trying to torture me? Fine… let’s do this. Their last name is Vagina.”

Mini-Me: “WHAT? Mom, are you serious? Their last name is seriously Vagina? Bwah-ha-ha-ha-ha!!!!!!!!” (and then she literally started doing the Daffy Duck bounce all over the room, she was so consumed with laughter.)

Bucket Head (4 year old): “Re-dy-na.” (giggle giggle giggle!)

Nature Boy: “Their last name is VAGINA? Seriously Mom?”

Me: “Yes {oh my God… can I take that back?}, but don’t say anything to them about it because they are very sensitive and have been teased all their lives.”

Nature Boy: “I think she should have kept her maiden name.”

And… end scene.

So anyhow, that is what went down BEFORE the dinner party. Just in case you are as gullible as my children, their last name isn’t actually Vagina. It’s not even close.

Thankfully, Nora and Jim are both wickedly funny and truly enjoyed the retelling of the story. In fact, don’t be surprised if Jim decides to change his Twitter handle to @Jim_Vagina.

And here is how the dinner party came to a close:

(Cue the semi-nekkid preschool super hero.)

Jim and Nora Vagina, thanks for another great evening. And if anyone reading this is an expert in the field of Tourettes Syndrome, call me. I think I’m ready to negotiate a treatment plan.


© Copyright 2011, The Bearded Iris. All rights reserved.