Hilarious TMI

When it is late at night things can get kind of silly here in our bedroom. We turn out the lights and chat quietly just before sleep each night and if it is after 11 then things get silly. I was laughing so hard last night, that I felt the need to share. And as an FYI it is a little TMI so if you get squicky about girlie plumbing issues, you might want to not read on.

Ok, so we were talking about our kids and how B is a bit of a wuss when it comes to anything concerning pain or discomfort, and K really just rationalizes through it all, bucks up and gets the job done. Which lead to me saying "I do not envy B's gynecologist at her first pelvic exam." Which reminded me, "Hey do you think it's been five years since they took out my plumbing?"

C: How should I know? Don't they keep a record?

Me: Well yeah, but I like to be prepared. Because five years post op they do an ultrasound to make sure your doing ok and that no endometriosis is present.

C: Oh, um ok.

Me: Yeah, cause they want to make sure that your ovaries are where they belong.

C: Right because they wander?

Me: Well, at my last yearly, the doctor couldn't find one of mine. She figured it had drifted behind my intestines. Isn't that awesome?

C: So it's an exploratory ovary?

Me: Um yes, I have a transient ovary. (at this point I'm laughing exponentially more than this is actually funny) Oh, no I have a hobo ovary.

C: Does it have a little stick with a napkin tied to it? And when it's done wandering, do you think it will go and have a picnic with the other ovary. Or maybe it's the other kind of hobo and it will use its stick and shank the other one, take its place, assume its identity, while disposing of the dead on in the wasteland of your intestines.

Me: (laughing hysterically) Wait. What?

Much repeating of the last bit said and not being able to breath from laughing so hard, ensued. Then,

Me: You know she told me that while they were in there they tacked my ovaries to the top of my bladder. My bladder has enough trouble with out freeloading ovaries riding on it.

C: They're like little barnacles riding nature's port-a-potty. Wandering hobo ovaries, that attach themselves to their own personal camp ground with a built in latrine.

At this point I completely lost it, and once I gained control, it was nearly midnight:

Me: Oh dude, my face feels like I've been crying for like half an hour.

C: I'm just that good.

I took my felt-like-I-just-cried-for-half-an-hour face and through tiny giggles and snorts, passed out.