So You Think You're Funny

I do. I really do. I think I'm funny.  

Like telling jokes funny. Like COMEDIAN funny.   I'm constantly making myself laugh with funny and PUNNY things, and will forever endeavor to entertain my lucky listeners. . . and prove my comedic CHOPS to the disbelieving.  Watch out, SNL. Lorne Michaels, your next big talent is a 41 year old mother of four.  Believe the hype.

Sadly, I'm the only one who holds this opinion. 

Case in point: 

ME:  My face is so red, I'll need to wear a beekeeper's hat tomorrow. With a full-on veil. This face needs to be hidden for the foreseeable future.  I may scare small children. Including my own.  

This is what I'm talkin' about.

BONUS KID:  I don't know what that is, but I will pretend that I do.  

OWEN:  You should talk to so-and-so's mom. She's the beekeeper at school.  

ME:  Huh?  Really?  They keep bees at school? 

OWEN:   Yup.  Tons of them. 

ME:  Wow. How do I not know this?  (Wait for it. . . going in for the KILL. . . )

I bet they are mostly found in the 8th grade.  

CRICKETS.

ME:  Get it?  In the 8th grade? 

MORE CRICKETS.

OWEN:   Ohhh!  I get it now! 

ME:  See!!!  That was funny!  They are mostly in the 8th grade because 8th graders are so buggy!! 

OWEN:  Ah, no. I thought it was because the 8th graders mostly got B's.  

JASON:  That's what I thought, too.  

ME:  Either way......funny, right? 

CRICKETS YET AGAIN.

OWEN:  Uh, not really.

JASON:  No. Not funny.  

ME:  I didn't say I was a comedian!

JASON:  Yeah. We know.  

I say bees, you say B's.

Whatever, man.

Me and Rodney Dangerfield.  I GET NO RESPECT.  NONE. 

Clearly, these people can't recognize TALENT when it is staring them STRAIGHT IN THE FACE. With or without the beekeeper's helmet.    

Say Yes

Like most parents of our generation, necessity dictates that we run a pretty tight ship. There is not much room for movement and flexibility in our schedules from day to day, and when things start to get cancelled or otherwise shift, the entire house of cards that I've so carefully crafted comes tumbling down.  And then the rebuilding and rejiggering and renegotiation of all the necessary pieces of the logistical puzzle begins yet again.  And then my eyes start to bleed.  Kidding.  (Kind of).   

THAT IS NOT WHAT HAPPENED TODAY.

We have planned to spend the weekend in the mountains of western Maryland since the end of the summer.  And we still are.  BUT. . . we had the great good fortune of being able to be FLEXIBLE for once, and the plan that we were able to create was spontaneous and serendipitous and frankly, of the SPIRIT.  THIS NEVER, EVER HAPPENS.  I'm reveling in it.

A great friend called this morning with a tale of heartbreak that all mothers have experienced.  Her boy is hurting.  My boys are at the teen and preteen lonely stage.  And all of our boys are friends.  I asked, could her boy please join us for the weekend?  

YES!  

But it would be much easier for all if we are able to leave tomorrow morning instead of tonight.  

Well, my boys were BEGGING all last night to attend the FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS game at their school.  (Seriously.  I defy you to find a person who doesn't feel exhilarated and ALIVE when hearing the sound of a drum line, feeling the chill of a crisp fall evening, and watching the glare of the lights on a lush, green, freshly lined field.  That, and the prospect of a little middle school or high school shenanigans?  It's just THE MOST FUN).  

So can we leave tomorrow morning?  And can these monkeys go enjoy their Friday Night Lights?

YES.

I texted the boys.  Then the plans started flying.  The biggest one wants to go with his friend and meet Jason at the game.

YES.

The second biggest then borrowed a phone and called.  Could he please go to his friend's house and then meet Dad at the game?

YES.

I told the boys that their old, sweet friend was coming to the mountain with us.  Their responses?

"Sweet!"

"SICK!"  

So.  Are my boys happily ensconced with school friends, thereby feeling less lonely?

YES.

Can I now have a cocktail with my sweet husband on a beautiful fall evening?

YES.

Can we still have a mountain getaway?

YES.

Do I only have to put two little kids to bed instead of four?

HELL YES!

Do I get a quiet night? An entire evening to do as I please?  Drink a glass of wine?  Read a book?  Watch Netflix?  Go to bed early?

Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes and YES. 

Holy guacamole.

I get to say yes.  

What a complete, unexpected pleasure.

This one?  He wants to carve the pumpkin he brought home from school RIGHT NOW.

YES.  Unequivocally, absolutely, positively YES.