Sometimes it’s humor. Sometimes it’s wit. Sometimes it’s sarcasm and many times it’s just damn inappropriate. BUT…..That’s me. Take it or leave it. I’m not changing my thought process or verbal outbursts for anyone. Like I tell most people, it’s a birth defect. Get over it!
Can I be a serious person? Of course dumb shit. I’m serious, sensitive, analytical, creative and I’m a whole bunch of other crap this post isn’t about. Believe it or not, some people, but not many, say that I’m a nice and giving person. Those people aren’t very smart though. It’s important to keep them around though. How else am I going to lift my self-esteem if it isn’t on the backs of those less superior? Now that we’ve settled that, let’s get back to business.
Many moments in my life would have been well suited for drugs (legal or otherwise) and/or therapy. Even as a child, I used humor in all it’s forms, to help me get through tough times. I even tried to use it to get others through theirs. Sometimes, it’s just good to lighten the mood or break the ice.
A sampling of such:
- My mom and dad separated and my sister and I (8 yrs. old) were going to live with her. It was the first time I ever saw my dad upset: “Well, on the bright side, you won’t have to pay for so much lunch money.” My comment upset him more. Oh well, it doesn’t always work.
- I found an email my (ex) husband sent to someone with a picture of his penis. I printed it out with a note to him: “Maybe you should make sure your penis is erect next time, so it doesn’t seem so tiny.”
- * PERSONAL and TMI: I don’t mind sharing this because my hubby does. We were in bed “wrestling” and I felt like it was getting too serious. We needed a mood change. I began to talk in a slow “special” voice and displayed a very confused face: “Wha’ are you doing to me? I work at FasMart. I dun know bout these things. Stop. Stop. Wha’ is that you point at me? You scaring me.” Yes. My hubby was quite startled and lost his mojo, but he laughed his ass off and now labels me the FasMart girl when it suits him. The point is we don’t take ourselves too seriously, no matter what we might be doing.
- *POLITICALLY INCORRECT: I don’t want the fact that my son has down syndrome to define him. I struggled a bit with his diagnosis and I found others did too (not knowing what to say). My friend was concerned about holding him. She said she hadn’t washed her hands: “What are you going to do? He already has down syndrome.” She laughed and held him. After I wrapped my brain around the diagnosis I told people: “At least I won’t have to worry about him driving drunk or getting some girl pregnant in highschool.” I would say: “We’re lucky he has down syndrome, have you seen my other kids? They’re the ones we have to worry about.”
- I loved working with special needs children because they didn’t feel sorry for themselves and often had a great sense of humor about life. One boy I worked with was in a wheelchair. He kept banging his legs into chairs and desks because he was always in a hurry and not too graceful. I told him to stop banging his legs. He said: “Why? It’s not like I need them.” Then I said: “They make your pants look nice.” We were waiting for his bus one day and I noticed we were over the handicapped space with the painted image of the person in the wheelchair. I said: “Look. It’s the crime scene of some handicapped person who died here.” We both had a good laugh.
- My kids hate going to stores and running errands with me. I used to tell them: “You have to come. We might run into your real parents and I want to give you back.”
- Although it’s annoying at times, ( I’m sure mine is), one of the reasons I love my husband is for his sense of humor. We were at his mother’s funeral and everyone was very emotional, of course. He was holding my hand and said in a not so quiet voice: “If my mother were alive, do you know what she would say? Get me out of here!”