scene: After a less than awesome chain restaurant dining experience lil sis and my parents and I treated the kids to some ice cream at a national mix in ice cream chain. All ten of us are lounging around outside when my nephew, who has been performing bodily experiments with his spoon, attempts some kind of pointy end in the belly button manuever and lil sis gently points out that the ability to store flatwear in your belly button might not be an asset one should advertise.
Me: You have an outie sis. You can't put anything in your button
Sis: I don't have an outie. I have an innie.
Me. You do??? Since when??
Sis: Since always. (shows me her innie) mom! Did I ever have an outie?
Mom: No you don't have an outie. The husband has an outie.
Me: What? (more tham slightly freaked out that my mommy is discussing the belly button of the one and only person i am allowed to do the horizontal tango with) My husband could lose a fork in his. How could you say he has an outie?
Lil sis and I begin side conversation regarding the husband's awesome new 8 pack. And the parents murmur to each other.
Dad: Click! What kind of car does the husband drive?
Me: a Benz.
Dad: before that.
Me: an Audi.
Mom: See! I know what I am talking about!
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