Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Conversation from the dinner table. Smelling like a burned pig.

After enjoying dinner out with my family I decided to leave the kids with Dave (we had met for dinner after school and work) and stop in for a quick tanning session before heading home. 

I was telling everybody bye and that I'd see them in a few minutes and Dave, being the great husband that he was is told me to take my time. I mentioned that tanning only took 10 minutes so I'd be home soon and Dylan, being the great kid that he is, told me to stay for four hours.

To which, Dave responded "she can't do that because she would come home smelling like burnt pork".

It's sad when your kids realize the error of their dad's statement before he does.  Dylan with a look of mortification on his face, "Daaaaad. That was mean."

Meanwhile I was trying to make heads and tails about what Dave was really trying to say. 
He claims I think way to much into what he says. 
But, really, I do believe my husband just called me a pig!  I mean, that is where pork comes from right?  Could I possibly have read more into that statement?

Dinner conversations. Never a dull moment with our family.

I do know that is NOT what my husband meant.  I still don't know quite what he did mean, but I promise that he is never that mean. However, this was just too funny of a story not to share.
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