When Jeana was small, she had a little trouble with certain words, such as mayonnaise. She pronounced it "bandaids."
She also had a little trouble with the word moustache. Her daddy has had a moustache most of his adult life, and all of her life.
One day we were looking at old pictures; we had looked at pictures of her grandparents, aunts and uncles, and cousins, talking about who they are, and how related. We came to one of her daddy, pre-moustache.
I said, who is that? She hesitated, then said firmly, Uncle Tommy (daddy's brother). I said, no, that's Daddy.
She looked at the picture, and at me, and then back at the picture, insisting that it was Uncle Tommy. When I held firm that it was indeed Daddy, she said, No! It not!
That not Daddy! He don't have no mattress on his lip!
It's a story we still tell, whenever one of the grandbabies has difficulty with a word.
Precious memories.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Where's My Sense of Humor?
I spent a couple of hours yesterday rereading some of my oldest posts. The thing that struck me was how many of them were funny, compared to my most recent posts.
I have a strong sense of the ridiculous, especially in my own behavior and attitudes. I used to relate the silly, aggravating, foolish things I said, did, or observed.
What happened to my sense of humor?
Will it come back?
Or is it gone, never to return?
I love to laugh, especially at myself.
Will I never again crack myself up, describing the events of my life?
I have a strong sense of the ridiculous, especially in my own behavior and attitudes. I used to relate the silly, aggravating, foolish things I said, did, or observed.
What happened to my sense of humor?
Will it come back?
Or is it gone, never to return?
I love to laugh, especially at myself.
Will I never again crack myself up, describing the events of my life?
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