So our son comes to dinner as usual. Our back and forth dinner is like having dinner with utter DBs.
Naturally, I was en femme … for the intently curious, I just posted a photo in the photo section of the ad hoc casual ensemble. The weekend is my time to be pretty, dagnabbit!
Herself did most of the cooking, but upon request, I made the roasted carrots. Our son loved them so much that he paused, looked at his mother, his tone had grown serious, and he said "I need you to make these carrots for me … always"
She retorted "He made the carrots, I mean she, I mean …" (honestly, I don't care what they call me)
A little more back and forth ribbing and our son suggested "shklee" or "shklim" or "shkler". Upon my confusion, he explained they were terms used for a genderless god-monster from an episode of Futurama.
As we were laughing, I stopped with dead pan seriousness in my voice and said "Oh, sure … make fun of the 'tranny' in the room why don't you!"
He started to back pedal just a little, and I couldn't keep up the façade of mock outrage
At this point, I just like messing with him
Meanwhile, he really did love the carrots! Plus we packed off the leftovers from last night's rabbit … so I'm growing proud of my cooking skills
.gif "Big Roll Eyes")
