*One thing upfront: I do not encourage ample displays of bodily functions - like burping and farting - at the dinner table. However, my husband insists on the ancient European tradition of expressing one’s approval of dinner with the above mentioned displays…*

Last week, dinner time. Warm and sunny evening, dining room window is open.

Husband: BURP (and not just a burp, I’m pretty sure I saw his lips make the wavy movements, like Homer Simpson). Holy crap - did you see the guy who drove by on his bike? I must have startled him with my burp, he almost fell off.

Daughter: Yes, he probably thought it was a bear.

Husband: Next thing we’ll know a Conversation Officer will show up at the door.

Me (honestly, I do not encourage this, but I am in tears, just dying): I think you meant CONSERVATION Officer, not CONVERSATION Officer, even though a Conversation Officer may be more appropriate in this case.

                   ****************************************

As most of you know, the kids and I like to pick on my husband about the funny things he says. Of course we could not let the Conversation Officer go. I have been thinking lots about the Conversation Officer since last week and just how handy it would be to have one.

Like at 6 am, when I walk into the kitchen and look at the creamer. I get all excited because it says “Mojito & Mojito” on there. That’s when I need a Conversation Officer to explain to me that I’m really just looking at the French side of the package and it actually says “Moitie & Moitie”, which means half & half. Totally unsexy.

Or when I watch Diners, Drive-ins and Dives with my husband and Guy Fieri says: “She has a magic pita machine, which was hand made by elves/elders/Elvis in her country.” I mean seriously? I was sure he said elves, my husband insists it was elders, but there is a possibility that Elvis was actually involved, because the thing looked like it was from the 50s. So where is that Conversation Officer when you need him?

I would also love to have the Conversation Officer as a mediator between me and my kids. They just can’t understand that I don’t hear them while I’m in the shower and they’re yelling something from their room, yet they claim they can’t hear me when I’m standing right in front of them. I know the Conversation Officer would be good at explaining that one.

I wonder if my husband could maybe summon one with a really loud burp.