Thanksgiving at my aunt and uncle's house in Atlanta. A house full of people and alcohol flowing. Under these conditions, at some point, the conversation inevitably turns to "where I've peed." And, not shockingly I guess, this isn't about the small children.
Uncle Joe: sink at Macy's.
Aunt Nancy: Back of cab.
Mom: In chair, in middle of card game.
Lots of hysterical laughing on the part of my mom and aunt, and at some point, one or the both of them adds a location to the story. Mom: couch at her sister's house.
But this time, a new twist. After recovering, and changing of pants, the box of cold Krystal hamburgers is broken into.
Mom: Your dad always said if you eat Krystals you don't need laxatives. Your dad sure loved Krystals.
My dad. He loved his miniature hamburgers and poopin'.
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