Posts Tagged ‘Humor’

Pick Your Battles

Me (to myself):  Wear the bikini.  You’re 45, who cares what you look like, just wear it.  It’ll be fine.

Go downstairs en route to pool.

Mark lets out a wail like an ax murderer has caught up with him.  “My eyes!  Oh god!  There’s some things you just can’t unsee!”

Sam:  “Relax.  It’s just a swimsuit.  It’s not that big a deal.”

Me (in my head):  Gosh, that’s decent.  I really appreciate–

Sam continues:  “Save that reaction for when they’re making out in the kitchen.”

Thanks, Sam.

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Mark: 4. Fourth Wall: 0

Friday afternoon

Me:  We’re going to a play tonight, Mark.  I need you to remember, it’s a play.  They have lines.  You can’t be shouting advice at the characters.  The people in the audience don’t like it.  You just can’t.

Mark (scoffing):  I’m in middle school now, Mom.  I know.

 

Friday evening

Eliza Doolittle (paraphrased):  You are a jerk and I can get along without you.

Henry Higgins (paraphrased):  Ha, ha.  Good one.  Great joke.  Now come home.

Eliza (paraphrased, singing):  The world gets along without you.  Stuff happens without you making it happen.  Even important stuff.  So sod off, Henry Higgins.

Henry:  (paraphrased):  Ha!  Hahaha!  I am a professor and I can argue this turn of events so I still look good!  You’re acting like a forceful independent person and it’s all thanks to ME.

Eliza stalks over to Henry.  Stands before him.  Tense moment of silence.

Mark:  SLAP HIM!

Guffaws in the audience around us, craning heads in the audience across the theater as people try to work out what was funny.

Sorry, Olney Theatre. We’re working it, I swear.

Superpowers

Mark:  “I want the superpower to make things out of nothing.”

Me:  “I have this superpower.”

Mark:  “WHAT?”

Me:  “I made four things.  Out of nothing.  It took a long time.”

Mark (cottoning on):  “Ooooo….that doesn’t count.”

Me:  “Why not?  I MADE PEOPLE.  FROM SCRATCH.”

Mark:  “I meant with my mind.”

(In my head):  I have to admit perhaps not enough thought was involved…

Not really a holiday, exactly. But good question.

Me:  “Oh, look.  It’s November 5th.  Guy Fawkes Day.”

Mark:  “Guy Fawkes?  Who’s that?”

Me:  “He tried to blow up Parliament in 1605.”

Mark (incredulous):  “And we celebrate that?  WHY IS THIS A HOLIDAY?”

Successful Play-doh Extraction

So we’re at the doctor on Wednesday…

Doctor:  “Mark, um, the inside of your ear is blue.”  Looks some more.  “Did you put a bead in here?”

Mark (emphatically):  “No!”

Doctor:  “Does it hurt?”

Mark:  “No.”

Doctor:  “Do you have trouble hearing?”

Mark:  “Yes!”

(Inside my head):  THAT explains a lot.

Doctor:  “Well, it has to come out.  Schedule with the ENT.”

Scheduled with the ENT.  (I have to type it as ENT, not Ent–otherwise I has visions of Treebeard poking twiggy fingers into Mark’s ear).

Hastily rescheduled Friday morning after a sobbing Mark called from school that the 2 PM appointment overlapped the school Halloween costume parade.

ENT:  “Okay, Mark, let’s get that bead out.”

Mark:  “Will this take long?  The costume parade is at 2:30.”

ENT:  “Not if you hold still.”

MARK FREEZES

ENT:  “Oooaaaakkky.  It’s crumbling, so not a bead.”

Mark (indignantly):  “I did NOT put a bead in my ear.”

ENT:  “I think it’s play-doh.”

Mark:  “Oh.  That.”

(Inside my head):  The paper wad up the nose.  Now this.  You’re out of easy-to-retrieve-from orifices, kid.

In the car:

Me:  “How DID you end up with play-doh in your ear?”

Mark:  “I sleepwalk.”

Dr. Frankenstein, I presume?

So we had to revisit Electrical Safety at our house…

Mark has an ‘Inventing Table’ in our dining room and was having a giant fit because he couldn’t get the Lego minifigure attached to a D battery.  Finally he got frustrated and left.

Yeah, I should have pegged earlier to what he was trying, but I didn’t.

Which is why when I went upstairs, I found an alligator clip wire attached to the wires of an exposed outlet (in an area we’re working on–I KNOW, but they should be old enough to leave such things ALONE), a mini-screwdriver hanging from the other end, and a Lego dude on the floor.

Which is when I figured out what he’d been trying to do:  make the Lego minifigure MOVE by running electricity through it.

Obviously, our next Audiobook for a Captive Audience (what we listen to in the car) needs to be Frankenstein.

AND Brian got cornered into explaining Electrical Safety to him, as well as clarifying why the Lego minifigure wouldn’t have moved even if he had managed to run electricity through it.

Disturbingly, but not surprisingly, the information that the plan was flawed from the beginning was more effective in getting Mark not to try it again than the information that electricity could STOP HIS HEART.

What Fourth Wall?

So we went to see a one-man performance of ‘A Christmas Carol’.

Despite the unfortunate description that makes you think it’s doomed to failure, remembering the hilarious, dreadful one-man Hamlet that Kevin Kline is obsessed with staging in Soapdish (yes, I AM old), it was awesome.

The actor starts by explaining that Dickens did these sorts of performances, and invited the audience to feel comfortable responding if something moved them.

Me (in my head):  Uh-oh.

Because Mark doesn’t exactly need encouragement in this area…

But all went well (enough) until the very end.  Mark quailed at the ghosts, hissed when Scrooge said that the poor ought to  die and reduce the surplus population (along with everyone else–the actor was particularly excellent at this moment, shockingly matter of fact and calm), and mourned Tiny Tim.

And then there was the end.  Bob Cratchit comes in 15 minutes late, Scrooge starts chastising him, and Mark can’t tell he’s teasing.

Bob:  “I’m sorry, Mr. Scrooge. It’s only once a year.”

Scrooge:  “I’m not going to put up with this any longer.”

Mark:  “I CAN’T BELIEVE IT!  AFTER ALL THAT, YOU’RE STILL GOING TO BE MEAN TO HIM??”

Scrooge:  “So I’m going to double your salary.”

Mark:  “OH!  Oh.  That’s okay then.”

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