Modern television

I was having my usual evening chat with my mom as I drove home... This evening she told me she didn't understand the television choices of her house guest (my 23 year old daughter Loren). 

Me: What's she watching? 

Gran: She's watching cooking shows, so I told her to remember all the good ideas so she can do the cooking for a while. 

Me: Sounds like a plan. . . 

Gran: What I don't understand is why she watches the tattoo artist shows, and Duck Dynasty, and that other one she watches, Dust Busters . . . 

Me: Mom, I think you mean Myth Busters 

Gran: Oh crap, you're going to put that in your blog, aren't you? Me: Yep.

more about chickens. . .and boobs

My sister Jan is eight years younger than I am, and when we were kids we fought like cats and dogs (which reminds me of the cat-juggling story). At some point in my baby sister's delicate development she decided "breast" was a naughty word. For some reason, however, she decided "boobies" was a perfectly acceptable reference for a woman's mammary glands. Since Jan was more than capable of beating the crap out of me with her toy baton, a can of pledge, or  box of tissues, my only recourse for defense was my superior quick tongue (cough). So. . . whenever I had the opportunity, I would do this:

Me: Hey, guess what we're having for dinner tonight?

Jan: What?

Me: BRRRREAST of chicken.

Jan: MOMMA! Dee's talking naughty.

Mom: Stop it you two or you'll be washing dishes. And, Jan, breast is not a naughty word.