Monday, May 6, 2013

Frogs, Snails, Puppy Dogs' Tails...

     My husband was sitting at the kitchen table with me, each of us absorbed in our laptops, when he started to laugh. It wasn't a chuckle, giggle, chortle or guffaw; it was one of those laughs that grabs my attention because it goes on and on with hardly a pause for breath. I call it his heart attack laugh. Well, anything that funny I have to see for myself, so I scooted my chair closer to his to see what all of the fuss was about. Our oldest daughter had sent him this email:

     I am not completely devoid of a sense of humor so I laughed too, but mostly at my husband who couldn't stop laughing. He immediately emailed the photo to our brother-in-law who telephoned 3 minutes later. Then they were both laughing and tossing puns back and forth across the miles like a couple of boys playing catch in the backyard.

     Now, my husband bends far enough toward the erudite that I consider him cultured. He is educated; well-informed; listens to a variety of music from classical and jazz to Jason Mraz and Train; enjoys Dickens and Austen at the cinema, Shakespeare and musicals at the theater; appreciates a well appointed room and the aesthetics of a garden; and loves woodworking, photography, architecture and cooking gourmet meals.

     However, humor brings out the boy in him. He isn't a fan of blue comedy but a smart fart joke gets him giggling, guffawing or, in this instance, gasping for breath.

     I never raised a son, but I have a grandson, numerous nephews and great-nephews, and I taught 5 and 6 year-old boys in Sunday School for eleven years, so I know their propensity toward blood and guts and potty humor.

     Apparently, they never outgrow it...although it was my daughter who started it.

1 comment:

  1. He may be erudite but after all, he's just a man, as Miss Tammy Wynette said!