Is that a dog in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?

Ok. We will talk about the New Orleans trip next round. I flew back from NOLA and then my family and JMacs family were here to celebrate our beautiful son's 5th birthday. More on that to come as well. I am boarding a plane for the West Coast today for a 2 hour meeting but in short, we had an awesome weekend. And everytime I am with my family, it is story-telling time galore. And there are two all-time favorite stories in my arsenal about my Mom. Here we go again:

After sharing the family beaver story with you, I had a big laugh with my Mom. You would think it a recent memory for the volume of comedic value I derive from it. But in my arsenal of great family tales, the beaver story has a friend. Another story, born during a sweet and innocent scene one summer I was on college break.

My parents were living in Alaska. I went up for the summer and was befriended by a group of nice Norwegians. Two of them, brothers, were helping me learn some rudimentary phrases in their native tongue. I would practice with them on our fairly frequent run ins, and I would share my tiny handful of wisdom with my parents. My mom got a kick out of practicing these phrases along with me.

My mom was running a full time business, and doing an incredible job. She was successful and smart and so it is with total respect I share the following scenario. One day in her lovely and light-filled office, a group of businessman came in. The two brothers were amongst the group and my mom was ready to intro her practiced pleasantries, this time, in Norwegian.

One of the easy phrases they taught me was "Gu Dag, Hvordan ar du det."

Which sounds like "Guh dah, vor dahn are doo day."

As she addressed the group, she said very slowly with perfect diction:

"Good dog, vord ann hard on today?"

The room went silent, briefly. One of the men responded, "Not quite yet, M, but if it changes, I will let you know." And then the large group burst into such a raucous laughter. And I thought I might have an accident of the urinary explosion kind. My mom, simply trying her best, looked at me and asked what was wrong.

I laid my hand gently on her arm and said, "Well, I'm not entirely sure but I think you just stated something equivalent to a good dog having a hard on today. " Some of these men were having a little trouble breathing. Primarily because my mom never talked like at work, and frankly, I thought it was a riot.

Her poor face. More red than classic Chanel No. 5 lipstick, honey.

She went ahead and left the room. At least until the laughter died down.

Oh, the laughs these stories have provided. And they have been told and retold. And surely someday my son will tell similar stories about us. I look forward to it and hope I take it as well as our Mom does.

So watch your words today. And I'd avoid that dog if I were you.