Put da Lime in da Coconut

 

A few weeks ago I was really ticked off because folks at Sunday lunch insisted on talking about body issues that should never be discussed over lunch. And I'm not talking about tattoo design or acceptable places to pierce. You would have thought I was with three year olds if you had to go by my ickyometer.

I've read that people who are obsessed with ailments have lost interest in the future which means that I'm surrounded by a lot of them, one of whom is younger than I am. So it isn't age. But even if it was, at what age do you get to ignore commonly accepted table manners?

When I was about eight, I looked for excuses to call soy sauce 'bug juice' certain that it would make my audience cringe. Since then, I have striven to prevent people from cringing when I talk. I think that is a worthy goal.

Not that my ailments aren't fascinating. I could be blogging right now about my mysterious finger condition or events from my latest dentist visit. But no. Even if you aren't eating, I won't breach such discourteous details.

It just that another Sunday lunch is coming up, and I'm still looking for an acceptable way to change the subject to talk about the weather or what plants are in bloom. Especially knowing that whatever they have to complain about, I have a few “that's nothing, wait until you hear what happened to me” I could bring up if I wasn't so polite.

And now, instead of thinking of a tidy way to finish this blog, I'm going to just end it so I can go and examine my finger again.

Nancy Sherer

 

 


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