The dinner table

It all started with a discussion of our snowman. We were describing it to my mom, and we came to the explanation of the nose. I declared that it was a Proboscus Snowman, but no one knew what that meant. I knew of Proboscus Monkeys, and just transferred the name to our snowman with the disproportionately large nose. "What does proboscus mean, Mom?" Out comes the dictionary. Full definition:

proboscus: a: the trunk of an elephant; also: any long flexible snout. b: the human nose esp. when prominent.

Okay, does anyone else find this to be a very funny word? We were laughing hard, but we tend to be a little odd about words around here. I moved on to other words on the page and came upon this one:

probang: a slender flexible rod with a sponge on one end used esp. for removing obstructions from the esophagus.

Now, this is not a multi-volume dictionary from Oxford University Press. This is your run-of-the-mill Webster's Collegiate Dictionary. What possessed them to put a word with such LIMITED use in their dictionary? No alternative, more ordinary uses for the word. Just some sort of surgical instrument. Maybe I will come across this word in my reading in the near future (used by Dr. Maturin, of Master and Commander fame, perhaps?) and I will know its narrow little definition. Once again, we laughed. And then, we laughed because we were laughing. You know how it goes.

All because we get entertained by reading the dictionary at the dinner table. It sure beats some kinds of conversation that can surface when we circle round. Words are fascinating creatures.