Needless to say, these last few days haven’t exactly been the funniest I’ve seen. So I thought I’d share a few moments of levity that wormed their way into the anxious miasma that’s been hovering around us. Above is a particularly cheery little picture that Karl Kotch just took somewhere in upstate New York.
Also, mothers of the world, if you haven’t read Ann Brown’s blog, I’m about to make your life a happier place by insisting you go and check it out right now. She’s a parenting consultant in Portland and I think she might be one of the funniest writers I’ve ever read. Here’s a tidbit from her take on mommy profanity. It had me laughing for like two days:
I have a tendency towards the letters “f” and “s” and “asshole” in conversation and I did not clean up my language when I had kids. Oh, I tried but, honestly, when you walk by your four year old’s bedroom and see him with the dog’s tail in one hand and a greased up thermometer in the other, the only suitable response is, “what the FUCK is going on in here????” And when your four year old says to you, “the dog has a little fever but she still has to go to school today”, which means that – for one thing – you are never, ever, ever going to use that thermometer again, any response other than, “are you fucking SHITTING me?” is not going to cut it. And when he tells you that he’s been taking the dog’s temperature every day for the past week and you know for a fact that you put that thermometer in your mouth, IN YOUR MOUTH, only yesterday because you wanted to find out just how hot, exactly, a menopausal hot flash was, well, there aren’t enough “fuck”s and “goddamn”s and “holy shit”s in the dictionary to express your concern.