Father’s Day is that time of year when families get together, profess their love of good ‘ol dad, and then go about their daily business.
Justin and I had his entire family over (around 20 people) to the house for some golf, fellowship, and food. His family has a tradition of passing out an enormous amount of cards (Hallmark must make enough money off of them in one year to supply ten full-time artists/writers) and this “holiday” was no different.
What was different this year is Justin getting a Father’s Day card. I was minding my own business cleaning the kitchen while others were opening gifts (it was also Justin’s sister’s birthday and his uncle’s), when I hear, “Jenni, you got Justin a father’s day card? OOOOH, are you pregnant?”
Um, hell no I’m not. But let’s back this boat up.
I don’t do cards first of all. I find them to be an enormous waste of money and they get thrown away that same day. I mean, buy some chocolate for that $2.50 instead of a card that approximately 15,000 other people get in a given year.
Second, if Justin were to receive a card from me proclaiming I’m pregnant, it definitely wouldn’t be in front of 20 other people, all finding out at the same time. That announcement is a private moment meant to be shared between me and him… and then shortly thereafter, as many people as I can call in one day.
So it turns out it was just a bad joke by some family member on Justin, or me… I don’t quite know.
But seriously folks, let’s try and keep the witful humor related to things like poop, pee, someone farting, not on my uterus. It just isn’t as funny.
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