Truth? Dare? Shoot me now?

I did an inadvisable thing recently.

I drank margaritas with family members.

And then we played truth or dare. Without the dares.

I know, I know, I know: what were we thinking????????

Actually, I know what we were thinking. We were thinking Please god, do not make me play that horrid Howie Mandel game that poses those awkward questions like - Would you rather put Tabasco sauce in your eye, or rub a steak knife across your gums? - ever, ever again.

We should have stuck with Howie.

The first question out of the gate was: what is the most you ever weighed?

Very quickly we established a new rule: no ask backs. You can totally tell it was one of us fatties who made that one up.

Now I know you're thinking - jeez, if you've already wandered into that kind of territory, what's left?

Think on it....

think on it....

think on it......

There you go.

Yup, we went there.

In fact, we went everywhere. We went places no relatives should ever go, and certainly not together.

I won't tell you which one of us once asked a teacher what "fellatio" meant.

(His response, by the way, was to blush, and to scribble "BJ" on a piece of paper.)

I won't tell you which one of us once cautioned her 14 year old sister against said blow jobs.

(Her justification, by the way, was that they "taste like chunky beer.")

I won't tell you that this very same 14 year old sister then grew up to NOT take the advice, as it turns out.

Yeah, it was that kind of night.

It was the kind of night where certain someones had to remove their socks to tally up certain exploits.

It was the kind of night where my mother was heard to utter "I shouldn't be hearing this" dozens of times.

It was the kind of night that made me unquestionably happy that my grandmother had gone home early.