Quitting Cold Turkey

Last night, my sister and I took in a charming little theater performance.

No, we are not theater (fancy accent here) people.  But my sister did have to watch a professional play for her college class and asked me if I wanted to tag along.  Of course, I accepted, as I jump at any sisterly bonding experiences.  We both were a bit skeptical about the whole thing, but ended up being pleasantly surprised.

The play was about a couple’s struggle with having a baby, and wow, did the play have it all–infertility and infidelity, abortion and adoption, death and even yes, a dominatrix.  We were a bit stunned by the amount of leather and whips involved in a play about a baby (actually now that I think about it, I guess that makes sense…) but we were even more stunned by the reaction of some audience members.

After a particularly frisky scene closed the first act, the lights went off the in the room and the sound of robust clapping filled the air.  “Wow,” we snickered. “Someone really liked that!”  Imagine our surprise when the lights revealed the source of the applause–a frail, bespectacled ninety-year old man in a powder blue sweater.  Apparently, gramps has a kinky side.

Anyways, overall we enjoyed our foray into the world of theater.  It was a fun and different experience, and I have to say, it really is totally different than just watching a movie.  I may even consider attending another someday.  Although at 25 bucks a pop, I may opt for Redbox instead…

Following the two plus hour performance, we set off on our journey back home, which unfortunately, was a good hour and a half away.  We didn’t get out of the play until after 10 pm, which put our ETA at waay past my bedtime.

Thank goodness my sister came up with the ultimate form of amusement for the drive.

We drove along, my headlights cutting into the unusually dark night.  We passed billboards to proclaimed the golden arches were just ahead.  I yawned.  She yawned.  And then….

Shelby cocked her head to one side.  A thought was formulating…

“Why,” she asked, “do they say ‘quitting cold turkey’? What does that even mean? How do turkeys quit anything? And what does being cold have to do with it?”

Why indeed?

How had I never stumbled upon such a profound thought?

And so began a string of seemingly mysterious idioms to ponder.  We are dorky like that.  And now, I pass that dorkiness on to you.  Following is a maddening series of common idioms that we came up.  I promise you will be amazed that you have never before questioned these everyday phrases. It kinda makes you wonder what else we are not realizing in our lives…

A chip on your shoulder
Let the cat out of the bag
It’s raining cats and dogs
Hold on to your horses
Riding shotgun
Spill the beans
Brand spanking new
Busting your chops
In the crapper
Crocodile tears
Dead as a doornail
Dressed to the nines
Three square meals a day

Are you going crazy yet? Stay tuned for the answers tomorrow…

2 responses to “Quitting Cold Turkey

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