Many years ago, I had my wisdom teeth pulled two days before Thanksgiving, which my Mother-in-Law(the Evangelical one) was hosting. We start grace, each person saying what they’re thankful for. My turn: “I’m thankful for my Vicodin!” (of which I had taken one. Or two. For the pain). Deafening silence. Broken by fits of Vicodin-fueled giggles and snorting. Good times.
I used that first one at many family gatherings, only I was a bit more obnoxious about it. I think my father took it better when, in the eighth grade, I asked why the United States didn’t keep western Europe after World War II ended. The poor man was not ready for that question at all. “We just… we just don’t do that.” Imperialism is less touchy than speculation on the benefits of Hinduism.
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