Conversations with Liam and Jen

Well, it’s that time of year again: the big wrap-up of Liam and Jen’s funniest conversations of the year. Stick around to the end for a fun little surprise!




























The Book


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Several people have suggested I should put together a book of these crazy conversations. So…I did. It’s 36 pages, full color, and off color (just like you love him). I don’t expect people to actually buy one now that it exists, but just in case, I’m dropping a form below. Just your name and email address is all I need. I’ll contact you with a PayPal link and get your mailing address then.

The price? Well, because it’s full color, it’s pricey for a short book. $25.00 gets you all the hilarity from the past few years, including the conversations and some silly pics.

Happy Holidays!


Another Year of Liam Conversations

Last year’s post was the most popular of all time, and some of you have already asked when this year’s conversations will be posted. I’m guessing this will be a tradition for years to come. So, here it is: another year of Liam conversations. Merry Christmas!

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How Hurley Got His Middle Name

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Liam didn’t want a dog. Any time “dog” was mentioned, he’d wax poetic about his childhood pup, Lucky, and say that no other dog could ever live up to his first. Lucky was a Jack Russell terrier, saved from the shelter in Cork by a seven-year-old Liam and his older sister. They didn’t get permission before bringing the lucky dog home and springing him on the family. As is often the case, the rest of the household fell madly in love.

Lucky lived a life more luxurious than any of the kids, according to Liam. While Liam had to eat gross things like porridge or vegetables (remember, this story came from Liam himself – always take with a grain of salt), Lucky got sausages. While Liam was required to stay home and out of his mother’s hair, Lucky got to go to the English market every day. It was from that very English market that Lucky was snatched one day, and a heartbroken Liam grew up determined never to fall in love with another dog.

Well, as we all know, marriage is about compromise. A neighbor let slip that one of his friends needed to rehome a Jack Russell puppy, so I told him to bring the dog by for us to meet him. I knew, knew, knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Liam wouldn’t be able to resist a wriggly, sweet little puppy. And I was right. The dog was given a 24-hour trial period, during which we would try to avoid naming him. I already had a name picked out, of course.

The first morning we woke with the puppy in the house, Liam went to take him straight outside. After taking him from the cage, however, he though the dog might want to see me first thing. Unfortunately, the pup lost his bladder right outside the bedroom door. That was about when I started to stir. Then, the house alarm blared. In his haste, Liam had forgotten to disable it. I jumped from the bed, wide awake by that point, and ran to turn off the awful noise. The moment my foot hit that puddle of pee, I went down into the splits, and there I stayed, laughing so hard that I couldn’t move. Liam had to help me up when he got back inside.

After that, there was no question: we were keeping that puppy. He just needed a name. Liam’s choice? Lucky. I said no way. We couldn’t expect this poor puppy who’d already peed in the house to live up to the rosy memories Liam had of his childhood dog. Besides that, the sister who’d gone with Liam as a kid to adopt the lucky Lucky had named two subsequent dogs Lucky. The name was no longer original.

Liam finally agreed that Hurley was a fitting name, and after a week or so, we realized no other name would have suited him as well. Liam took our new baby for his first checkup at the vet. The vet tech asked for the dog’s name, and Liam, still a little miffed that he hadn’t gotten his way, grudgingly replied, “Hurley.”

“And his middle name?”

Well, Liam didn’t even know dogs could have middle names. Without hesitation, he blurted the first name that came to mind.

Plaid Pajama Pants and Black Forest Gateau: A Wedding Story

There is no end to the stories I could tell about our wedding day. The “proposal,” the snow, the plaid pajama pants in our photos… Really, the day was magical in that Liam-magic sort of way. Today, for our 9th anniversary, I’ll share another.

For this story, I have to tell the punch line first. Then I’ll explain. Because every joke is better when you have to explain it, right?

Last night, before drifting off to sleep, Liam asked me, “Do you know what should have been happening at this time nine years ago?”

I thought long and hard, coming up with stuff like, “We should have been going to different houses to sleep,” or, “We should have thrown those plaid pajama pants away.”

Over and over, he shook his head. Finally, he took pity and said, “My groom’s cake should have been in the oven.”

See, we had a small, quick wedding. The cakes were a bit of an afterthought, one supplied by my parents just so we’d have at least a few traditional things here and there. There was a small bride’s cake with two layers, and then there was Liam’s requested Black Forest Gateau. Yes, he always calls it gateau.

After the short wedding and the drive through the snow to the mountains for our tiny, tiny, tiny reception, we dug into the champagne (in dollar-store flutes) and cake. Liam totally bypassed the bride’s cake and attacked the chocolate and cherries.

And then he made this face. Not the face that says, “Ewwwwwww.” Rather, I think, the face that says, “I don’t know exactly how to make Black Forest Gateau, but I don’t think this is it.”

He struggled through a few more bites and then switched to the other cake. Later, he said the gateau was way too moist for his liking. I tried a bit and agreed. It was kind of…gummy. But we took it home with us anyway and put in the fridge like we might consider eating another piece.

Then I got the great idea that I might heat it up and eat it like a cherry-chocolate cobbler with some ice cream. I stuck the bowl of “cobbler” in the microwave and two minutes later pulled out a big, fluffy piece of Black Forest Gateau.

The baker had seriously forgotten to bake our cake. And Liam has never, ever let me forget it.

A Year of Liam Conversations

I started to write a big introduction about how wonderful he is and how almost 9 years of marriage has been magical. Mostly, it’s been hilarious. I share the funniest (and most PC) stuff on Facebook, so I decided to scroll back through some of the conversational highlights of 2014. So, instead of going on and on about him, let’s just giggle.

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Happy holidays!