Me: “Be honest, I’m the funniest patient you have, right?”
Therapist: “I can’t answer that.”
Me: “Oh COME ON. Just admit it.”
Therapist: “Ok, ok. Fine.”
Me:
Therapist: “You’re not.”
Me: “Be honest, I’m the funniest patient you have, right?”
Therapist: “I can’t answer that.”
Me: “Oh COME ON. Just admit it.”
Therapist: “Ok, ok. Fine.”
Me:
Therapist: “You’re not.”
Kid: “Why are you called a tutor? Is it because you TOOT A LOT??!?!?”
(5 minutes of maniacal laughter at own joke)
A friend of ours, Shaun, is designing a wedding trinket for us and using our wedding hashtag, #cleareyesfullheartstwojews on the design (If you don’t watch Friday Night Lights, and don’t know we are The Taylors, then there is nothing I can do to help you understand or appreciate this hashtag. I’m sorry.)
Shaun also runs his own business. While designing our trinket, he was simultaneously emailing a potential new client. In this email, he meant to cut and paste a standard questionnaire that goes out to all potential new clients.
Instead, he accidentally cut and pasted our hashtag, and hit send before realizing.
Literally wrote:
-Shaun
The client signed.
(Part of the Ebola Mom series)
And thus marks the first and last time I attempt to joke with Ebola Mom.
I’m too old and tired for new friends. If I don’t know you, and I have to put even a modicum of effort into hitting it off with you, it’s simply not going to work.
So the new rule is this: if you’re a new person, you have 2 chances with my sense of humor. If you don’t get my sarcasm/I have to explain that I’m kidding more than twice, you’re out. I’m sorry. I’m just too exhausted.
But if I met you at any point before college graduation, you can still be one of those people who never gets it or knows when I’m fucking with you, and I’ll still love you, because, quite simply, you have put in your time. And you’re probably exhausted too.
So we’re good, Mom.
My proudest moment as a teacher is when I taught a kid how to not laugh at his own jokes. He had a great sense of humor, but ruined it by cracking up at himself. In order to prevent this, I told him to picture something really serious after telling the punchline.
So there’s a solid chance this kid spends 90% of his waking hours thinking about death.
He SO much funnier, though.
Going through old sibling emails, I managed to find a hilarious one written by my sister in 2006. You have no idea how much of a diamond in the rough this is (unless you know Steph. Then you know). My sister has been funny only a handful of times in her life– and here is one of the funniest, captured in writing.
But when I showed Steph the email (with some great side commentary added in by yours truly), she wouldn’t let me post it. Even though almost 10 years have passed since it was written.
Below is what was left once I got rid of everything she didn’t approve of. Why even bother posting this? Because the end result just so beautifully illustrative of Steph.