The Boy that lives at our house has an infectious laugh and a riotous (but very silly) sense of humor. He has said (many times) that he would like to be a comedian when he grows up. I would not be at all surprised if he actually did it. He has amazing dimples, big blue eyes and his smile lights up a room. I know I’m his mom, but he’s so cute, he makes my heart hurt.
He is also a complete ham. He loves attention; he loves being listened to; he loves making people laugh. I know EXACTLY where his sophomoric sense of humor comes from, too. Hubby has always said that it comes from my side of the family and I must admit that it’s true. My family has never met a scatological joke we didn’t like. We think that this is hilarious:
Nothing gets us giggling like a fart joke. Yes, I realize that admitting all of this makes it pretty apparent that we are not sophisticates, but, oh, well…laughter is good for you, right?
Well, yesterday, Boy’s class put on something called “Magical Musical Moments” and the kids were each allowed a couple of minutes to “perform” a vignette of their choice. Boy and a friend danced and aped and mimicked and lip-synched to “You Ain’t Nothin’ But a Hound Dog”. Boy grabbed the mike and told a few jokes (“Why did the chicken cross the road?”) as he was “introducing” their act. I suppose that I should have been embarrassed: he ended up hogging the microphone and causing the rest of the class to pretty much lose control, to the slight irritation of the music teacher. Instead, though, I was just glad that he ended the joke with “to get to the other side” rather than the version that we usually tell at home: “because the chicken next to him farted”.