(Note: The following conversation is, IN FACT, a real conversation. It really DID happen, and I did not make one bit of it up! I did, however, change the name to protect his identity…although he probably won’t talk to me after this anyway)!
Since Hubby is away this week, I will have to find other people to torment…and I can think of one person, in particular, that I have been meaning to torment via blog. One of my FAVORITE friends from WAAAAAYYYY back. For the purpose of this blog, let’s call him Hacim. Hacim and I went to highschool together and have known each other for a VERY long time. (I think he would say we have known each other too long). I consider him one of my best friends, although he would proably say he doesn’ t think of me that way, but it is just a cover. He would be quite sad without me. Isn’t that right, Hacim? 🙂
Well, when we were in college Hacim, myself, and my roomates had a VERY interesting conversation one night. It went something like this. (FYI–My memory is very accurate when it comes to this and I think you will see why).
Me: Hey, Hacim do you know where babies come from? (He didn’t take Advanced Bio 3-4 like the rest of us smarty pants, so I thought I would make fun of him—hey I used to be smart!)
Hacim: Of course, I do. They come from a boy and a girl when they do stuff together.
My Roomate: Oh yea, but where do they come out?
Hacim: Well, the girl grows another hole somewhere down there (pointing down).
Me and Roomie (trying to contain our laughter, but failing MISERABLY): What do you mean…”grows another hole?”
Hacim (clearly getting angry): Well, HOW should I know, I am not a girl. They just grow another hole and the baby pops out, right!?
Me and Roomies burst into a fit of giggles.
Fast forward 12 years later:
Me (sing song like–in front of his new girl): Hey Hacim, WHERE DO BABIES COME FROM?
Hacim: Shut the eff up!
His Girl: What is this story?
Me: I can fill you in, see it all happened one day in college….
Hacim(rolling eyes): Shut up!
I don’t think he will EVER, EVER live this down. EVER. Gotta love memories, right Hacim? 🙂