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Being funny is a major component of my personality. Without humor, I’d just be a bitch. And what’s worse than a humorless bitch? (Not much.) My husband is funny too. He cracks me up on a daily basis. Sure, 90% of the time everyone else in the room just looks at him bewildered, but I always get his jokes. (He’s foreign. Foreign people are weird.*)
*I’m allowed to say this because in some countries I’m foreign too.
My kids are still working on becoming funny. At least I hope they’re working on it and that where they are now on the funny spectrum is not where they’ll remain. Sally doesn’t think anything that’s actually funny is funny. But the girl can laugh for hours if you keep insisting that her name is Pickle. Luke is coming along nicely. He knows he’s supposed to find certain things funny, so even if he doesn’t get it he laughs like a crazy person.
The jokes that both tell leave much to be desired. Sally: “I know a funny joke: monkey!” At this she laughs and laughs and then goes on to repeat her joke 7856 times. (She takes after her father.) Luke is closer: “Why did the chicken cross the road? To get to the other SLIDE. Get it? The other SLIDE, not SIDE but SLIDE. Get it? Isn’t it funny?” I suggested once that maybe the chicken was crossing a playground and not a road and he told me that I just don’t get good jokes.
I’m In the Powder Room today talking about how my kids’ “sense of humor” made me look bad this Halloween.
Click the badge to read my post at In the Powder Room.
Today’s the day! The day when we encourage our kids to knock on unknown doors and take candy from strangers. I love Halloween! How much fun is a topsy-turvy day when normal rules don’t apply, when the kids get to go wandering around after dark collecting far more candy in a couple of hours than the rest of the year’s quota by far?
This year Sally is Super Girl (“gooper girl”) and Luke is Dracula. This is the second appearance of Super Girl (yay for me!) and the first time Luke is something scary. He’s a sensitive boy. I’m worried he’ll be scared of himself.
Thankfully Halloween isn’t cancelled altogether this year, like it was last year. We’ll be wet and cold but at least we can go. In the aftermath of Frankenstorm, there are millions who are still recovering and might not be able to give their kids the night they want to. I promise to steal enough candy from my kids for everyone. (Oh, not to share, I just mean in everyone’s honor.)
I’m In the Powder Room today reminiscing about Halloweens of yore, and marveling, once again, that any of us made it through the ’80s unscathed.
I’ve been called a misanthrope and I suppose it’s true. I don’t hate all of humanity, I just don’t want to talk to most of it. Wouldn’t life be simpler if everyone wore personality name tags? Mine might say:
You’d know from a mile away if you’d want to talk to me or not. And if yours read:
I’d know to steer clear of you at a party. It’s win-win!