You Can Take the Boy out of the Northwest, but....

Same group of doctor friends who went on the Swill tasting adventure a few weeks ago, now having dinner on Taco Tuesday night:

"So did you have a Cabbage Patch kid when you were growing up?"

"Yeah, come to think of it now, his name sounded like a porn star's name. Ricardo Flynt."

"I had a blond afro kid named Spencer."

"I had the Russian International Edition boy."

I'm a bit amazed that all of these grown men, now doctors are admitting this to one another, but I add in, "I had a bald kid named Burgess Jerry. I hated dolls, but my cousin wanted someone else to play Cabbage Patch kids with." Yup, I'm the only female at the table and I was the one hating dolls.

"Well, I really wasn't much for toys, really," clarified the same guy with the pornstar doll and who drank the Splenda swill entries back, "I was more of a stick and rock kid. I used to bring in rocks. My cousin once told me that rocks belonged inside not outside. And they weren't pretty rocks either."

"You mean they weren't different colors?"

"No. It was kind of like, 'Here's my gray rock, and here's my slightly darker gray rock.' You know we didn't get much presents when we were little. Instead we thanked Mother Earth. 'Oh, thank you Mother Earth for these beautiful gray rocks.'"