Here is an addition to the category of \u201cOdd but True, Anatomy Division.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0It is a third human nipple, a vestige of our evolution from large litters to the current format of single gestations followed by prolonged parenting.\u00a0\u00a0About five percent of humans will have a third nipple, located somewhere along the ancestral \u201cmilk line\u201d extending from the armpit to the groin.\u00a0\u00a0This extra body part is not a perky or responsive thing, really just an odd little nubbin that is often mistaken for a mole.\u00a0\u00a0However, it is enough to fire the imagination.\u00a0\u00a0In the\u00a0Salem\u00a0witch trials, a third nipple was considered evidence that a woman had suckled the devil.\u00a0\u00a0In the movie \u201cThe Man with the Golden Gun,\u201d James Bond identified the villain Scaramanga on the basis of his third nipple.\u00a0\u00a0The Triple Nipple Club includes such celebrities as Zac Efron, Mark Wahlberg, Tilda Swinton and the character Chandler Bing from the TV show\u00a0Friends<\/i>. \u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0It was just these fun facts that made me think that a third nipple would be the perfect lie for the party game, \u201cTwo Truths and a Lie.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0Every Thanksgiving, Nick and I host a multigenerational group of family and friends at our house \u2013 usually from thirty to forty people with ages ranging from toddler to eighty-five.\u00a0\u00a0I always concoct a game or gimmick so that people don\u2019t start the afternoon by auto-segregating into football for the men, videos for the kids and food prep for women.\u00a0\u00a0One year everyone had to write a haiku poem on cloth prayer flags that we then strung around the room.\u00a0\u00a0Another year I set up a photo booth complete with different costumes.\u00a0\u00a0This year it was \u201cTwo Truths and a Lie.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0The idea is to come up with two quirky truths about yourself and one believable lie.\u00a0\u00a0Much discussion and frivolity ensues as the group tries to identify the lie.<\/p>\n
Nick and daughter Frances absolutely nixed the third nipple, firmly stating that anything to do with nipples would be inappropriate for a woman.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cBut it\u2019s a lie,\u201d I said, \u201cIt\u2019s not like I would be called upon for a demo.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0They countered with the argument that it was just too weird to encourage family members to contemplate what was going on under my shirt.\u00a0\u00a0Okay, I could see their point, but I didn\u2019t think such restrictions would apply to a man\u2019s nipples.\u00a0\u00a0In the\u00a0Friends<\/i>\u00a0episode, the cast members were utterly titillated by the thought that Chandler Bing was triply endowed, and I wanted to create the same excitement for our Thanksgiving group.\u00a0\u00a0I urged Nick to adopt my lie, but he demurred, opting instead for a physical oddity that had no sexual overtones.\u00a0\u00a0He wrote down that his toes were webbed.\u00a0\u00a0I yawned.<\/p>\n
I pondered alternative lies that would create some excitement as I began to set up the house \u2013 bringing in folding chairs from the garage and basement and setting two tables in the kitchen and two in the dining room.\u00a0\u00a0We were expecting thirty-eight, but I wanted to set a few extra places for last minute additions.\u00a0\u00a0Family members often show up with friends or neighbors stranded by a cancelled flight or a broken-down car.\u00a0\u00a0I tried to conjure up other fictitious oddities, such as a pattern of moles on my back in the shape of the Liberty Bell (including the crack), or the ability to burp the entire Lord\u2019s prayer, but none seemed to have the same panache as a third nipple.<\/p>\n
As I squeezed and grated the rind of ten limes for a mascarpone pie, I recalled one of the last times that I had played the game.\u00a0\u00a0It was a company team-building event and one of the first times that I had met my colleague Doris Mueller.\u00a0\u00a0In my capacity as a medical consultant for a health plan, I had talked with\u00a0Doris, a nurse, on almost a weekly basis as she sought my advice on whether or not requests for insurance coverage were legitimate or were just smoke screen for cosmetic procedures.<\/p>\n
\u201cHello, Dr. Brown.\u00a0\u00a0This is Doris M o-o-o-o-ler,\u201d she said, stretching out her name with a downward slide, sounding like the melancholy of an unmilked cow.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cHow are you?\u201d<\/p>\n
This was in the era before caller ID, so it was difficult to dodge her calls.\u00a0\u00a0I would wince as she launched into the minutiae of a case \u2013 a man who wanted his health insurance to pay for growth hormone so that he could be taller than his father (yes Doris that is cosmetic), or a request for Botox for headache that sounded suspiciously like a ploy for wrinkle removal (maybe Doris, but ask for doctor\u2019s office notes to confirm the headaches).\u00a0\u00a0Heavy gloom dripped from each of her sentences.<\/p>\n
Every time she called I tried to invent some new chipper response, all to no avail.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cOh,\u00a0Doris, I know that it\u2019s raining, but drops on my window are trembling and shimmering.\u00a0\u00a0It\u2019s so beautiful.\u00a0\u00a0Oh\u00a0Doris, you wouldn\u2019t believe the fabulous pen I found today. It\u2019s the kind that never smears or streaks and I was so lucky to spot it on the sidewalk.\u00a0\u00a0Oh\u00a0Doris, aren\u2019t you glad that it\u2019s Tuesday instead of Monday?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, yes, Dr. Brown, that sounds nice\u201d she would say, followed by a heaving sigh.<\/p>\n
After a year of a purely telephone relationship I finally I met her in person at an all team meeting.\u00a0\u00a0Doris Mueller was as gloomy in person as she sounded on the phone.\u00a0\u00a0She was pasty and overweight in the soft and lumpy way of people who rarely exercise.\u00a0\u00a0Her hair was the washed out blond color that women use as they transition to grey, but the finely etched part across her thinning scalp revealed a strip of dark roots.\u00a0\u00a0These features could describe many women who have spent too many years in a windowless cubicle, but the most striking aspect of her appearance was her lifeless eyes.\u00a0\u00a0I saw no joy, no imagination, and no verve.<\/p>\n
\u201cDoris,\u201d I shrieked in feigned delight.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI am so happy to meet you after the hours that we have spent on the phone.\u00a0\u00a0How are you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHi, Dr. Brown, it\u2019s Doris Mueller.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cNice to meet you.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Her tone was flat and her flabby hand\u00a0hung limply in mine.<\/p>\n
Our group immediately segued into \u201cTwo Truths and a Lie.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Similar to my Thanksgiving role, I was part of the management team at this event and felt some responsibility to set the tone, so I decided to create a conversation-starter with my lie.\u00a0\u00a0I wrote, \u201cI once played spin the bottle with Prince Charles when I was an exchange student at\u00a0Cambridge.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0I didn\u2019t think it was totally out of the realm of possibility \u2013 we were about the same age after all, but my lie provoked little interest and no lively \u201cbrush with greatness\u201d conversation. My attempt at levity with Prince Charles seemed tame, paltry and a bit snobby.\u00a0\u00a0It just didn\u2019t work.<\/p>\n
We then moved to Doris\u2019s trio of entries, one of which was \u201cI attended\u00a0Woodstock.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0I thought this must be her lie \u2013 how could this down-in-the-dumps woman ever have been a free spirit who attended Woodstock?\u00a0\u00a0But even as a lie, it was so wonderfully creative, ideally fulfilling the purpose of the game by prompting discussion of the 1960s in general, favorite bands and other tales of misspent youths.<\/p>\n
\u201cI saw a documentary on\u00a0Woodstock\u00a0and the reporter actually found the couple with the soggy sleeping bags who were on the album cover.\u00a0\u00a0Now they are mostly worried about health benefits.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you remember Alan Fey \u2013 on the\u00a0Woodstock\u00a0album they announced his name and say, \u2018Alan Fey, come to the tent please, it\u2019s a bummer man.\u2019\u00a0\u00a0I\u2019ve always wanted to know more about Alan Fey and his bummer.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat reminds me of all that great 1960s jargon.\u00a0\u00a0When was the last time you said, \u2018righteous babe\u2019 or \u2018cheese it the fuzz?\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n
On and on it went, and then the big reveal.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cIt\u2019s true, I was at Woodstock,\u201c Doris\u00a0said as she shrugged her shoulders.<\/p>\n
In the time it took to say the four words \u201cI was at\u00a0Woodstock,\u201d my whole perception of\u00a0Doris\u00a0changed.\u00a0\u00a0I swept away the dowdiness and imagined a mud-streaked\u00a0Doris, reveling in the music and dancing the dance of joy.\u00a0\u00a0I was jealous.\u00a0\u00a0This was just the type of free-spirited adventure that I wished I could lay claim to, though I know that it has never been in my nature to be so impulsive on a grand scale \u2013 not at age 17 when Woodstock kicked off, and not now 45 years later.<\/p>\n
I snapped out of my daydream as I stacked the pies into the overstuffed refrigerator.\u00a0\u00a0Nick was now at the counter massaging a huge wad of stuffing, more than enough for the twenty pound turkey headed for the oven and the second bird destined for the barbecue grill by the back door.<\/p>\n
\u201cI was just thinking,\u201d I said.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cCould someone change people\u2019s perception \u00a0with just one truth or a lie?\u00a0\u00a0Maybe use this game as a way to shake things up or test out a new identity?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d he said.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cSo you think that \u201cTwo Truths and a Lie\u201d would be an appropriate venue to announce an engagement, a pregnancy, or some other life event?\u201d\u00a0\u00a0I could tell that he was getting enthused by the idea as he vigorously added celery to the stuffing.\u00a0\u00a0Bread croutons were now spilling over the sides and falling on the floor.\u00a0\u00a0The dogs had caught on and hovered at our feet.<\/p>\n
\u201cOkay, I was obviously thinking of something subtler.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0I then told him the story of Doris Mueller and how her\u00a0Woodstock\u00a0truth had totally changed my perception of her.\u00a0\u00a0Unfortunately, I never did find out what happened to Doris \u2013 I left the company shortly after her big reveal and we went our separate ways, but I was consoled by the thought that whatever bummer befell\u00a0Doris, she would always have her one defining moment.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo what kind of perception about yourself would you possibly want to change?\u201d he asked.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYour\u00a0Doris\u00a0might have needed some moment of excitement that she could cling to as her life turned sour.\u00a0\u00a0What makes you think that you need a defining moment?”\u00a0\u00a0He went outside to check the garden to see if there were any Brussel sprouts that he could harvest for the stuffing.<\/p>\n
The rich smell of turkey was now permeating the house; it was time to work on the seating arrangements.\u00a0\u00a0I made a list of pairs of things, like Bert and Ernie or peanut butter and jelly.\u00a0\u00a0I put each half of the pair in a hat.\u00a0\u00a0Each person would draw from the hat and find their dinner partner by searching for their matching half.\u00a0\u00a0One year people had to find the matching pair of an oxymoron.\u00a0\u00a0Jumbo sat with shrimp, pretty sat with ugly, and butt and head were dinner partners.<\/p>\n
Family members were starting to arrive bearing creamy clam dip and thick chips, cranberry chutney that absolutely glistened in its bowl on the counter, loaves of the pumpkin tea bread that have become a tradition, and a medley of other casseroles and salads.\u00a0\u00a0Grand nieces and nephews were racing around trying to grab the dog\u2019s tail, others were playing catch with the bean-bag animals I had spread around the living room.\u00a0\u00a0People congregated around the card table set up with pencils and Post-It Notes to write their truths and lies and stick them on the kitchen wall.\u00a0\u00a0There was much chatter and discussion, and I realized that many had put quite a bit of thought into the exercise.\u00a0\u00a0The wall slowly filled with the truths and lies, some in the tentative handwriting of the youngest and others in the equally tentative handwriting of the oldest.<\/p>\n
Nick arrived with the turkey from outside.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cHave you figured out your truths and lies yet?\u201d he asked.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI don\u2019t want you to overthink this.\u00a0\u00a0You do realize that this is just a parlor game that is supposed provide some laughs.\u201d<\/p>\n
I slowly began to carve the turkey, taking a little corner of the crispy skin and toasted stuffing for myself.\u00a0\u00a0I hoped that Doris Mueller was not spending her Thanksgiving alone in a Country Buffet, picking at hours-old stringy turkey and daydreaming about her moment of glory at\u00a0Woodstock.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0I thought about my good fortune when someone tapped me on the shoulder and asked for a whisk to get lumps out of the gravy.\u00a0This was just a small moment, one of many that coalesced into the maelstrom of Thanksgiving that now defined me.\u00a0\u00a0I quickly scribbled down some Truths and Lie in the spirit of the game.\u00a0\u00a0Nothing special, nothing deep \u2013 that I used Botox for wrinkles, that I had experienced an earthquake in a waterbed, and I have never eaten an olive.\u00a0\u00a0When my Post-It note was read, the group easily identified my Botox lie based on my unadorned face.\u00a0\u00a0But then there was much discussion and laughter about my aversion to olives and my iconic California experience in a sloshing waterbed atop a trembling earth.\u00a0\u00a0Mission\u00a0accomplished.<\/p>\n
The next Post-It note should not have been that surprising, given that we were a group of over thirty and the incidence is one in twenty.\u00a0\u00a0It\u2019s just that people are rarely given such an opportunity for a public display.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cLook at this,\u201d someone said. \u201cDrew says he has a third nipple!\u201d\u00a0\u00a0A frisson of excitement shot through the room and I passed a knowing look of smugness to Nick and Frances.\u00a0\u00a0In a scene reminiscent of Friends, people crowded around my brother-in-law and asked for a demo.\u00a0\u00a0The last piece of my Thanksgiving tableau fell into place as Drew lifted up the corner of his shirt.<\/p>\n
What a blessing if your identity is not one thing but a forest of *****<\/p>\n
Each branch coalescing into a panoramic frieze.<\/p>\n
But you can always ***** your identify with a game of truths and lies,<\/p>\n
With a major life announcement that will come as a surprise.<\/p>\n
Or use the game to ***** conversation to a tittering ripple<\/p>\n
Go ahead, \u00a0just lift up your shirt and display a third nipple.<\/p>\n
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Answers: trees, reset, steer<\/p>\nFollow Liza Blue on: Here is an addition to the category of \u201cOdd but True, Anatomy Division.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0It is a third human nipple, a vestige of our evolution from large litters to the current format of single gestations followed by prolonged parenting.\u00a0\u00a0About five percent of … Continue reading ![\"Facebook\"](\"https:\/\/www.fanagrams.com\/blog\/wp-content\/plugins\/social-media-feather\/synved-social\/image\/social\/regular\/48x48\/facebook.png\" "\\"Follow")
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