November 3
 
 

                           Table Talk With Dana's Family. Thursday, November 2:

                           Mom:  Wow, this is delicious!
                           Gramma:  Ehh..
                           Dana:  What?  You don't think so?  I think it's great!
                           Gramma:  It's all right...
                           Mom: Well, I've been like a little piggie eating three bowls of it!
                           Gramma:  God bless you! Eat! I'm glad you like it!
                           Dana:  (working to get marrow out of bone..)  It's really good.
                           Mom:  Do you want my marrow too?
                           Gramma:  You EAT that?
                           Mom:  She always has! Always, since she was a little girl.
                           Dana: It's true, I have.
                           Gramma:  Really?
                           Dana:  Yeah, I have but honestly I don't know why.
                           Gramma: What do you mean?
                           Dana: Because I can't eat it without thinking of Leukemia.
 

                           DEAD HALTING SILENCE.
 

                           Dana: WHAT?   It's TRUE!  Marrow.  You know...
 

                           EVERYONE STARES AT DANA, FORKS HELD HALFWAY TO MOUTHS

                           Dana: WHAT?  Like you all never think anything gross!  What do YOU think when you think marrow?
                           Mom:  Dana, that 's DISGUSTING!
                           Dana:  Excuse me, but look around the table.  Where did I get my personality from?  Who taught me?  I
                           am the sum of the three of YOU!  I am ALL YOUR FAULT!! You have no one to blame but yourselves!!
                           Gramma:  You can't blame leukemia on me.
                           Mom:  You can't blame it on me, either.  I would never think such a disgusting thing.
                           Dana:  Okay, sure.  From whom did I learn the expression "Poop Chute"?  Did I invent "POOP CHUTE" on
                           my own?  No.  I learned it from MY MOTHER.  And you pretend not to understand why I think the way I do.
                           Man..
                           Mom:  WHAT?? WHAT??? Those FOUL WORDS have NEVER BEEN UTTERED BY MY ANGELIC,
                           PRISTINE, CHERUBIC--
                           Dana:  Wholesome, don't forget wholesome..
                           Mom:  WHOLESOME, good one! WHOLESOME lips!!  Never!! I have NEVER SAID THAT!!
                           Dana:  I have only one mother, and she taught me POOP CHUTE.
                           Mom:   DANA!!
                           Dana:  What?  Everyone has one.
                           Gramma:  No, that's true.  We are all equipped with a Poop Chute.
                           Mom:  ARRHH!
                           Dana:  See?  Your disgusting language has corrupted your own mother!!  She was so innocent!
                           Mom:  Never.  In.  My.  LIFE have I ever said POOPCHUTE!
                           Dana: Oh, WHATEVER.  Look how easily the word rolls off your tongue.  You are a poopchuter from way
                           back when.
                           Gramma:  Come to think of it, I do remember that you've said POOPCHUTE before.
                           Mom:  I NEVER!
                           Dana:  Wait, this is getting away from something.
                           Gramma: What's that?
                           Dana:  That marrow makes me think of Leukemia!
                           Grampa:  What the hell are you all talking about??
                           Dana: HEL-LO! We are talking about the stock market! Pay attention!
                           Grampa:  The STOCK MARKET?
                           Gramma: We were not.  We were talking about our daughter's filthy mouth.
                           Grampa:  Oh.  Well.
                           Dana:  You know, I'm embarrassed by all of you.  I'm leaving.  It's a miracle child services never took me
                           away from you people.
                           Gramma:  They wouldn't dare! Their Poop Chutes would fall out!
                           Dana:  I rest my case.  I am clearly the fruit of your collective loins.