Just in case you were harboring any illusions that my family uses its modicum of intelligence for stimulating conversation, I will now shatter that belief.
I was in the car with my brother, David, and Reece and Emily, last night. David was driving me home after we’d been to dinner and had done a little shopping. Either Reece or Emily called the other one a “retard” and David said, “Oh, no, we no longer make ‘retard’ jokes. There will be no more talk of anyone needing to ride the short bus or having the i.q. of a marshmallow.” I felt a little impressed that my brother was becoming an enlightened individual, and I asked, “Why, Dave?” He responded, “Dawn and I don’t want our grandkids to be retards. Of course, we now have nothing to talk about.” “There’s always that other topic that’s a favorite with our family,” I said. Dave replied, “Toilet humor? Oh, yeah, that’s right. The family conversation has been saved.” We then rode to my house with looks of relief on all of our faces.