Regarding posterior difficulties

This past weekend was our annual reunion with a small group of friends from college. One family in our group just bought a lovely house in Connecticut and so we converged from five different points on the East coast. We drank Deb’s divine margaritas and tried not to trip over the five children under the age of four scampering around. Which was more difficult after the margaritas. Especially when Happy Hour started earlier and earlier each day.  (What? All the guys are out playing golf and the kids are watching Baby Einstein? Time for a margarita!)

At one point I was taking this picture of Jonah in this cool chair that’s been in Deb’s family for generations:

I asked Jonah to “please wipe the constipated look off your face” so I could get a better shot. And four year-old Ryan immediately asked, “What is constipated?”

Which reminds me of the time I was about twelve and watching television with my grandmother and aunt. An ad for a type of medicated cream came on and I turned around and asked, “What are hemmorhoids?”

Of course they answered matter-of-factly.

Of course I wanted to die.