I follow a blogger who never fails to amuse me with the verbal droppings of her children. They are unfailingly creative, clever, and hysterically funny.
So then I think to myself,
I'll blog some of the things my little comedians say. I should have a cornucopia of material to choose from. After all, I have six to her two. My kids are smart. They're funny. They are creative and clever.
But when I sit down with fingers primed, all ready to let the diatribe flow forth onto my screen?
I got nothin'.
Why is that? It truly stumps the poop out of me.
THEY'RE OUT OF THE BOX!
Maybe it's my shoddy memory. I have to cram so much #@*& into my brain what with all their appointments and meal planning and birthdays and school forms that I cannot retain anything they have actually said in my presence.
I mean, if I have to ask myself,
"Did I brush my teeth?"
"Was Daniel wearing shoes when I dropped him off to school this morning?"
then how do I expect to remember actual spoken words? Not gonna happen.
I thought I would follow them around the house, wearing a jaunty little hat and carrying a notebook; pencil poised to write down anything remotely amusing. But then of course I saw dog hair that needed to be swept. And then the stray socks on the floor reminded me of the laundry that needed switching. And when I was up there I realized I was almost out of detergent and ran down to add it to the list and ....
...what was I doing?
So, yeah. That didn't work out so much.
The other day I actually picked up five out of the six of them in carline (plus a friend). A rare event. And we had fun. There was laughter, to be sure.
But blogworthy laughter? No. No, not really.
One of them burped real weird. That was funny. We all laughed at that, I can tell you.
When we were pulling into the driveway I saw my mare Genevieve running around in the pasture and said,
"There goes Gen running around like a maniac again. She keeps getting her panties in a twist lately over some horse in the next field."
To which one of them asked, "Where do you get panties for a horse?"
"She's just borrowing some of mine", sez I.
"Way to build your self-esteem, Mom."
And we all laughed in the car and bonded. But it just doesn't translate to chuckle-worthy stuff once it's written down.
I could write about some of the funny English as a Second Language stuff, like how Julie used to call girls "groins", and how James thought vagina began with a W...
"You know, girl's parts that begin with W. I don't want to say. W, W!"
...but likely someone would misconstrue and think I was bullying them by poking fun and then I'd be under investigation, and where's the funny in that?
You'll just have to take my word for it. My kids are funny.
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I Hate Hypocrites
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