I remember the first time that I realized my mom had a sense of humor. Sure, we'd had times where we all laughed and joked, but I'm talking about a good, raunchy, somewhat inappropriate appreciation for the funny stuff. She came home from work with an accordion-folded printout of a conversation from her company's interoffice email (although it was definitely not called email at the time). She and her friend were discussing the merits and the drawbacks of their "Wang" computer system.
Don't you hate it when your Wang is inoperable?
My Wang is never up for long before it stops servicing me.
Will your Wang work better if you slap it around some?
The rest of the conversation went back and forth along these lines but it contained sarcasm and puns galore and I loved it. I saw her in a new light. Wait a minute, my mom can make funny penis references? How is that even possible?
Since having kids, my main method of communication consists of sarcasm and humor. How can you take anything seriously again when you have vomit on your front (or back) and you are absolutely positive that your sweet infant is busy creating diabolical plots designed to wake you up the exact second that REM sleep is achieved?
Sarcasm had been passed down to me and childbirth had switched that gene to the "on" position. In fact, some people will tell me that they enjoy my blog and find it hilarious (thank you to those 3 people) and they usually ask me, "Have you always been this funny?" And I reply, "No! Absolutely not. I was shy and quiet and barely talked to anyone who wasn't a close friend -- until I had kids. And then, blamm-o, you're like an instant stand-up-comedian because your life is a freakishly funny mess of bodily functions, crazy kid sayings, and constant criticism from everyone, including your own tiny children. What else are you gonna do? You have to use wit to get by."
Credit: plasticrevolver.
I'm not so sure how this sarcasm gene passes on to boys. My preteen son is becoming proficient in this special language and uses it all the time! He's so snarky that I cringe at times. Especially when he speaks to adults as if he's grown and buddy-buddy with them. For example: My friend offered to give Zack her ticket during our school's annual Ice Cream Social. He could not figure out why anyone would willingly give up their frozen treat until she explained, "I don't' like ice cream." To this, my 10-year-old said, "Why, were you dropped on your head as an infant?" Gah! You can't say that to an adult! And I wasn't even there! Luckily my friend also has boys and thus appreciates the humorous side of things, and she was laughing when she told me this.
Now, my younger son is the one who gets these venomous attacks courtesy of his older brother. Thankfully, he is relatively immune to the daily berating and criticism. Yesterday, while out on a walk Zack was constantly griping about his brother (all because of a video game they were playing earlier when Logan's character had left the screen where Zack was playing, so you know it's all out war now). What was supposed to be a relaxing walk turned into a migraine-in-the-making. The damn dog would not stop whining and yipping because she wanted to catch up with Logan on his bike. Logan was not looking as he slowly pedaled across the road -- in front of a car. Zack was busy commenting on the near-crash and calling his brother an idiot.
I finally lost it and said, "You are not allowed to call your brother mean names! So stop!" Zack said, "Well, I can't help it if he's a moron. I'm just saying it out loud. You know we were all thinking it."
Oh my head. Hey, who wants to talk about their Wang computers?