No Everybody Gets My Jokes But…Who Cares?

Did you get the joke in the title? Is it a mistake? Is it on purpose? Hmmm… Call it a Freudian Slip if you like. My eldest Millennial and I were talking about a bit of writers’ block I was having for this post when the conversation turned to my often oddball sense of humor.

firstlookatfall2014
Be the Bright Spot

{Psst – He was complimenting me. Which of course I accepted graciously} I said to him a bit flippantly, “Not everyone gets my jokes but…who cares?” He laughed and started to say something when I interrupted “Oh! Blog Post!” I rush to my trusty sidekick a laptop called ‘Tigress’ and type up the title you see. I start to laugh.

The strangest things tickle me. People have told me I am wired differently (If they are being kind) or totally screwed up (if they are not). I like to laugh and try to find humor in my life. I’m the person who will enjoy the dark-side peeps as well as the ‘Pollyanna’ peeps in my life. I am viewed as a positive, cheerful, bubbly, enthusiastic person. Generally I am. I love being the cheerleader. Rah! Rah! Go Team! I love to encourage the people around me to grow and be themselves. BUT…there is the delicious dark side of humor too.

Not just the twenties movie villain twirling his mustachio, or the Joker’s humor in old Batman shows and flicks. There is also finding the cynical, sarcastic, and ironic humor in tough or sad situations we have to deal with on a regular basis. Real life humor, the humor we all live. The kind of humor we don’t seem to be celebrating too much. The best way I know to explain it is with my life so here we go.

So, I’m eight months pregnant sitting across from my doctor. A serious handsome young cuss he was at the time. I’m sitting uncomfortably, feeling as big as a house with my huge belly, wondering when this would be over (both the appointment and the pregnancy). He explains his concern about the size of the baby. I agree explaining the babies in my family tend to be large. In fact I was over eight pounds myself. The Doc frowns, says something about my hips not being wide enough. He scribbles something in his notes. I look down at what I can see of my lap, which is basically my knees and think: He doesn’t have a clue. My caboose is plenty wide for a baby.

Now understand I did not know the sex of my baby boy before he’s born. I was thinking a seven to eight pounder. If I had known I might have fainted dead away. This was my oldest SON. I stress ‘son’ as in male because my grandfather was rumored to have been nineteen pounds at birth. He was a big ol’ Swede and I could believe it. I’m sure he was big but like a fish tale the weight may be exaggerated {just a bit 😉 }

The Doc gets to the part where I have a 33% chance of needing a C-section. I giggle. He raises a brow (how do guys do that!). I kind of listen as he describes the procedure and blah, blah, blah…He folds his hands, looks at me like I should say something profound. I can’t hold it in any longer. My thoughts are racing. I’m scared. I’m happy. I grew a biggin! Woo Hoo! Oh No! What do I do!

I bust out laughing. Full belly laugh. Lots of joy and fear.

He frowns. Deep furrows form between his brows. He finally speaks as I’m wiping tears from my eyes. “This is not funny. It’s serious.” he intones.

I pause to compose myself. I was so tickled by my rioting thoughts. I finally respond. “Listen Doc, I understand this is serious but I have a choice I can laugh or I can cry. I choose to laugh.”

He smiled and nodded. I’m pleased to say he got it. He and I still laughed while seriously honest during a late arrival (The boy took his time coming into the world). Still positive, frustrated and laughing through gritted teeth when I went through twelve hours of hard labor struggling to get a nine plus pound baby out. My husband remembers that particular day as scenes from the “Exorcist.” The whole thing culminated in an emergency C-Section and a baby boy who is now six-three. Whew! I did good! And so did the Doc!

To wrap up, Overall I choose to laugh! I really don’t care (much) if anyone else gets the joke…

Milly

P.S: About the title…So I kept the title. I asked my son if my readers would even understand why I found it funny and I kinda like it. So my guy says, “If you really don’t want them to get the joke…leave it.” So I did. {Hee, Hee} I know it’s kinda corny but I thought it was funny. And there you have todays’ glimpse into Milly’s inner workings.

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