While I don't feel quite like I'm at home with my family when I have dinner with my in-laws, I do feel quite loved and accepted (thank heavens). However, I must admit that the conversations at the dinner table at the Cohen household occasionally get to a place to a far off place of weird and uncomfortable and makes it difficult to foresee a way out.
This evening I began a chat with my sister-in-law about fertility drugs. It was a casual conversation between just the two of us. Then a few others joined in and the conversation grew into a new category: sperm mobility. Then vasectomies. Then different methods for birth control. This was all before dessert.
Shortly after dessert was served, someone brought up the movie The Hangover. Then naked Asian men. Then naked Asian men on your face. Then heart attacks and doctors. Then blood pressure and cholesterol. Then someone brought out the electric blood pressure machine and started hooking people up to it. Then a competition ensued over who had the lowest blood pressure. And at this point when David and I decided it was time to go, we were labelled the "party poopers." Yeah. We're the party poopers.
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