Last week I could have SWORN that I overheard my mom and dad (the rents) discussing “reefers”.  Since it is unlike them to discuss such taboo topics, I disregarded their conversation under the assumption that I must have misheard.  Then, later that week I heard them talking about “reefers” a second time.  This time I knew my ears didn’t deceive me.  As I continued to eaves drop (because how else are you going to listen to someone else’s conversation of which you are not invited to participate?), I was both confused and intrigued by their sudden interest in this contraband commodity.  Why the sudden interest?  Had they considered the ramifications of getting caught with this prohibited substance? And more importantly, why were they talking about buying their “reefer” at a local home improvement store?  While continuing to stealthily eaves drop, I was able to piece together (as Paul Harvey would say) “the rest of the story”.  What the rents referred to as a “reefer” was in fact (drum roll please)……. a refrigerator for our farm (What? Not the reefer you were expecting? Me neither!).

As a loving daughter, I was put in the awkward situation of having to choose whether or not to correct my mom and dad. Because of my (uh hum… clears throat) respectful nature, I did not want to offend anyone by correcting my elders, so I made the ONLY logical decision and pretended the conversation never happened. The caveat to this plan (and it’s really just a TINY one) is IF the rents use the word “reefer” in public, I can only hope to be there to witness it… and laugh…a lot.  After which I will swoop in, like the hero that I am, and lovingly explain the true meaning of the word.

So there you have it.  The decision to forgo educating my rents on the true meaning of reefer is totally, completely, 100 percent, without a doubt to protect them.  It has absolutely nothing to do with my sheer entertainment (ok, maybe just a little)…