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May 22, 2007
The Trouble with Writing Comedy…
Is that you raise a kid who's a kidder.
A kid with a real twisted sense of humor. With a highly intelligent, dry wit who can beat you at your own game when you’re not looking. After all, that’s the goal for a kid, isn’t it? To be nurtured by you. To learn from you. Then be better at it than you ever were.
Unfortunately for me, my elementary-school-age son is a fast learner. Oh, and he catches on real quick. He loves to play practical jokes. Loves to dish out whatever kidding – no wait – dishing out is way too gentle – let’s go with shovel and fling – yes, he loves to shovel and fling pranks right back at me. Yes, I’ve created a monster. And the worst of it, at this tender age, he’s learned to do something that I have not taught him. He brings in accomplices. Oh, he’s good all right.
He has a daily job; the next door neighbors who work all day pay him to take out their two dogs. Two very large, rambunctious golden retrievers. My son had a new friend over this day. A very sweet boy, who went with my son to help take out these wildly large dogs who get excitable at times.
I never saw it coming.
Minutes later, the friend – this sweet little boy – comes in crying, holding his arm, barely able to talk. One of the dogs bit him. He’s gripping his arm tightly to his torso, unable to breathe between sobs. My son follows him into the house, eyes wide, stunned, in a panic. Terrified. I search for blood and repeatedly cry out, “What happened? What happened?” But this sweet little child can barely get out his words. My hubby is working from home today. He comes running into the kitchen, panic stricken as well.
Fear and dread course through me. What am I gonna tell his mother? This is the first time this kid has come over! Should we go to the emergency room?
But then the sweet little boy and my son start to smirk. They can pull off the façade no longer. They break into fits of laughter. They’re doubling over, mired in their own hysteria, their eyes wet with mirth. I narrow my own eyes at them. They got me good. I tear through the house after ’em in a dangerous chase. Hubby is unable to aid me in capturing the pranksters; he's too busy holding himself up against the wall in relief.
But they are too fast and run out the front door. All the while their taunts and laughs can be heard. Good thing they got away. I’m not sure what I’d be capable of if I’d caught them anyway. I scream out the front door that they are both grounded for life. They laugh harder as they skip down the sidewalk. (You can ground another person’s child for life, can’t you?)
Who taught this kid to bring in accomplices anyway?
Yes, good-son-number-one, you are a worthy opponent.
But the master is smart enough not to teach the young student everything. The all-knowing master is wise enough to have something up her sleeve at all times.
Therefore, my young son, be afraid, be very afraid...
Well, today is my last blog. Thanks so much for a wonderful month! You’ve been a gracious host and provided a soft landing for all my jokes, whether you found the humor funny or it left you scratching your head at times. It has been a pleasure! Hugs and kisses! --Kimberly Llewellyn
Posted by Kimberly Llewellyn at 11:17 AM | Comments (5)
Comments
Well, I can offer you a glimmer of hope. There are those teenage years which will offer you a plethora of opportunities to get your child back, in front of his friends.
For now, there's always salt cookies. (Reverse the salt and sugar in a batch of cookies...)
Posted by: RandomRanter at May 22, 2007 12:27 PM
Well, I can offer you a glimmer of hope. There are those teenage years which will offer you a plethora of opportunities to get your child back, in front of his friends.
For now, there's always salt cookies. (Reverse the salt and sugar in a batch of cookies...)
Posted by: RandomRanter at May 22, 2007 12:29 PM
Hilarious!! My 7 year old is the same way but in a different way. I have always been told that I have a reason/debate/excuse for everything. My son is taking after me in that regard. I ask him why he did something that he knew he was not supposed to do and he gives me some perfectly logical reason why he did it. How can you put somebody in time-out that gives you logical excuses for everything?!?!
It was great having you here Kimberly!
Posted by: Jo at May 22, 2007 12:31 PM
Wow. Salt cookies. I like that. And you know what? I do remember the occasional batch of salty cookies in my childhood. I chalked it up as Mom being a bad cook from time to time. Hmmm...
Posted by: Kimberly at May 23, 2007 1:45 PM
Whew! All's well that ends well :-)
No-Longer-Teenager-No-1 played a trick on me when she was about 9. She put a squirt of dishwashing liquid into my electric kettle (you all know I love my cups of tea!), and when I boiled it, of course, out came a froth of bubbles. She didn't confess for ages...
Kimberly, it's been fun! Many thanks for visiting with us.
Posted by: Michelle C at May 24, 2007 8:59 AM
