Possibly the best misheard line...EVER

After my mom's funeral service we needed to travel to a faraway cemetery, where she wanted to be buried next to her own parents. So that everyone didn't have to try to stick together in a caravan for the extended trek, my dad reserved a limo for some of us. Now, this limo supposedly could carry 10 people comfortably. "No problem," we thought--there was my dad, my sister, my brother and sister-in-law, my two nephews and niece, a buddy of my brother's, my mom's oldest friend, one of my cousins, and me. Keep in mind, three of these bodies were children, not full-sized...yet there we were, squished together shoulder-to-shoulder in that thing, making for a very...up-close-and-personal ride. And did I mention loooooong?

But that meant we did have a LOT of opportunity to chat, and enjoy each other's company. As time passed, though, you could tell the situation was getting a bit wearisome,and that people were becoming just a tad punchy. During the conversation my oldest nephew--who happened to be sitting at my dad's feet at the very back of the car--wanted to know why we called my mom's girlfriend "aunt" when she wasn't technically related to us. My sister deftly handled the explanation, explaining that we spent a lot of time with her, and that our families had shared vacations together, and gathered for holidays and birthdays...at which point my father, who on the best of days tends to blurt out whatever springs to mind, without sending it through any kind of internal filter whatsoever, added, "drunken orgies..."

I was seated at the front, near the driver, as far away as possible within the confines of the vehicle, and I heard him absolutely loud and clear. The reaction was animated and instantaneous, with about half the listeners slapping their foreheads and shaking their heads, and half of us yelling at him to watch his comments around the children, for heaven's sake. (Yeah, that was primarily his own kids, who are completely used to this kind of thing, but feel the need to chastise him anyway. That's the way it goes: Dad says something inappropriate, we scold him, and the dialogue continues as if nothing happened. Just our unique Family Conversational Dynamic...sigh...) Anyway, he earned his self-satisfied snicker at the reaction of everyone around him, but when it quieted down again after a second or two, my nephew--a puzzled frown creasing his round, spectacled face--piped up in confusion:  "What? Dunking...oranges?"

Yesssss, that's exactly what Pop-Pop said, little man! Although he seemed to want clarification, and continued to glance around for someone to enlighten him, we were all too caught up in hilarity to help him the poor guy out. And so there you have it, an innocent mistake becomes instant, precious Family Lore. (My own boys missed this incident themselves, so I will say it for them to mark our own WestEnders family tradition: "Dunking Oranges is an awesome name for a band!")