My husband’s calves are the size of a Sunday roast.
He comes from a long line of large-legged people. His father is large legged, his brother is large legged, and his mother? Her legs appear to be one solid bit from calf to foot, a feature known colloquially as a “cankle”.
You may safely conclude from this description that his mother and I are not close.
You may also conclude that the size of Willie’s calves have been the subject of many conversations.
What? You don’t talk about body parts?
“Willie?”
“What?”
“If we were flying over the Andes, and the plane went down –“
“Oh, God,” Willie sighs. “This isn’t the we-eat-your-calves-first conversation again, is it?”
“No! No! Of course not!” It is. “But I’m just thinking that in the future we may want to pack snacks when we fly. You know, things like carrots and onions and potatoes, maybe packets of salt and pepper –“
“There might be something wrong with you.”
He doesn’t mean it.
There’s also my theory on the nomadic nature of his ancestors.
“Hey, Willie.”
Willie sighs heavily. It is clear that he suffers. “Yes?”
“Where do you think your people were from?”
“The Netherlands.”
“No, I mean, like, don’t you think hundreds of thousands of years ago your people were bounding up and down mountain sides, locking their legs around the necks of saber-toothed Big Horn Sheep or something?”
“Or the necks of their wives.” He pauses, feeling this needs softening. "Ha ha," he adds.
He keeds, this one.
We all have our physical distinctions. I, for example, seem to have a flat spot on the back of my head. Sure it’s strange, but it’s also handy for sleeping on the floor. My mother denies that she strapped me to a board as an infant, but she’s a shifty one. I have my suspicions.
Flat head. Monster calves.
Ah. Life’s rich pageantry.
He comes from a long line of large-legged people. His father is large legged, his brother is large legged, and his mother? Her legs appear to be one solid bit from calf to foot, a feature known colloquially as a “cankle”.
You may safely conclude from this description that his mother and I are not close.
You may also conclude that the size of Willie’s calves have been the subject of many conversations.
What? You don’t talk about body parts?
“Willie?”
“What?”
“If we were flying over the Andes, and the plane went down –“
“Oh, God,” Willie sighs. “This isn’t the we-eat-your-calves-first conversation again, is it?”
“No! No! Of course not!” It is. “But I’m just thinking that in the future we may want to pack snacks when we fly. You know, things like carrots and onions and potatoes, maybe packets of salt and pepper –“
“There might be something wrong with you.”
He doesn’t mean it.
There’s also my theory on the nomadic nature of his ancestors.
“Hey, Willie.”
Willie sighs heavily. It is clear that he suffers. “Yes?”
“Where do you think your people were from?”
“The Netherlands.”
“No, I mean, like, don’t you think hundreds of thousands of years ago your people were bounding up and down mountain sides, locking their legs around the necks of saber-toothed Big Horn Sheep or something?”
“Or the necks of their wives.” He pauses, feeling this needs softening. "Ha ha," he adds.
He keeds, this one.
We all have our physical distinctions. I, for example, seem to have a flat spot on the back of my head. Sure it’s strange, but it’s also handy for sleeping on the floor. My mother denies that she strapped me to a board as an infant, but she’s a shifty one. I have my suspicions.
Flat head. Monster calves.
Ah. Life’s rich pageantry.
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33 comments:
we are all sideshows in the making.
Every one of us has circus freak potential...it makes life interesting.
Poor Willie. He suffers indeed. :)
Oh you make me laugh I have a flat spot on the top of my head and it is very handy if you need an extra place to set your drink. :0 Hug B
Very funny stuff...you know you are not normal right?
All I ever really wanted was a tail. :-)
ellen abbott said exactly what I was thinking.
I have big (and elegant) calves too. They are one of my better features. Along with my right wrist.
My daughter is thick in th'ankle and short in t'shin, as we might say in Lancashire, and she got it from her dad. So that is fair game, as nowt to do with MY genes. I have teased her - occasionally, but always lovingly - about it since her early teens so she is ready for any caustic comments from elsewhere. And I have always called her legs strong, sturdy and bound to take her far. Which they have.
But she still visits, so all is well
You think we're all gonna cave and tell you our physical distinctions, dontcha?
Well, only if you insist. I have a big gap between my large toe and its neighbour, both feet. It comes in handy for wearing flip flops. You know, the kind whose name was stolen by the underwear people.
Flat head. That was an indian tribe, right? Or was that flat feet?
Do you and Willie have a kid together? Flat-sided head with huge calves?
If we go down in a plane, first I'll eat Willy's calf for strength and then surf your head to civilization.
HaHa
Hari OM
I avoid mirrors. I live alone. All clear. ...YAM xx
As Azeem said in Robin Prince of Thieves, " Allah loves wondrous varieties".
Sounds like typical dinner conversation....as long as you're not eating a roast at the time.
My husband might be related to Willie's people. His calves are so large, we don't refer to them as a calf, they are steers!!!!
It does indeed sound as if Willie suffers - nearly as much as our cats tell us they do.
Haha...you had me at the third paragraph.
A town luminary died. At the service every man who got up to speak, who played high school football with John had to remark his were the socks not be be borrowed. The fell about the ankles and eventually tripped you on the field. That's some love, honor and respect.
Hi Pearl
I do love humour (I'm English). I like to write humour (English), too.
This made me laugh, and we all need more laughter in our lives.
(Are these characters really your family?)
Thank you for commenting on my blog today. I'll be back for more.
I'm sitting here wondering if calf meat is lean or fatty. Either way, it is sure to be hairy. No thanks. I think I would opt for grass and bark. Vegetarian is not overrated.
I am here thinking how perfectly natural it should be to have that conversation with your mate. Isn't that intimacy? ;) My spouses buttocks would be a bountiful life sustaining feast. I'd invite you Pearl. You got it like that.
Hey, it could be worse. You could be burdened with a taste for abstract foreign films and an quenching yen for strawberry Pop Rocks...
...but there I go again, talking about myself.
I am a run of the mill average person and in no way a freak honestly I am........would I lie
ahhh, what does keeds mean??? Am I missing something?
I have seen some of his relatives!!!!
I've got the flat back-of-the-head and the large calves. The head is a German thing, remember when Germans were called square heads? That's why. The large calves are from both sides of my family and make it hard to buy long boots. If I want a size to fit my calves the feet are so big I could fit my sister in there with me.
hey Pearl, maybe it was your ancestors who were the mountain dwellers! Flat spot on the back of the head means you can sleep on an incline without rolling down the hill! Willie's calves are the equivalent of a camel's hump - excess energy storage for lean times such as if his plane ever goes down over the Andes. Ah, the joys of anthropology :)
We are all unique for better or worse. My flat head allows me to walk with ease while carrying a stack of books on it. At least it is something to amaze the kids with.
"carrots and onions and potatoes"
Hahaha! Oh my gosh, you make me laugh. :D
and I inherited my German grandma's ample boobs! So I can say that my belly isn't the part that sticks out, or sags, the most.
Daisy's Barbara. Daisy is perfect!
I know this sounds like a generic comment, but you write the best stories. I mean that. Compact, to-the-point, usually funny (if not, they have other charms to endear them.) If I owned a nationwide chain of newspapers, you'd be in them every day.
My Husby thinks his legs should be holding up a temple somewhere . . .
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