When I was younger, I could appreciate most all forms of humor. Golly, I would laugh at the word “plunger.” (and could still do, if the timing was right) Thus, anytime Mama said anything with the right voice, I’d be laughing for days. (at least that’s what I remember)

However, in the past 4 years, during the time I was writing a dedicated monthly article in the Bluegrass Breakdown, my humor reached a higher strata- a higher level of witdom because . . . I don’t know. Possibly because I was challenging myself to come up with something funnier than the previous article. Who knows.

Anywho, for the most part, I can now recognize when the right timing to whip out a zinger has come, and/or when I have missed it. Like a sewer pipe with an adjustable water filter on it, I am able to control the humor more than before.

However, the problem with having higher humor tastes is that it’s really hard to laugh at the lame stuff, even though I can recognize that the person is trying to be funny. Normally, that’s not a problem. However, when it’s your family members, that’s another story. Every so often, Mama will come up with an effortless zinger that is really good and will stay in the air (if you know what I mean) for a few days after. However, like precious stones, these “gems” are rare. Why? Well, Mama has often tried to be funny. Because effort is involved, the joke often comes out quite lame. Mind you, she’s not the victim. I am! It’s hard to laugh when she says something lame in order to be funny, because I know she’s trying to get me to laugh. I’d end up feeling sad, because there she is, trying to say something laughable, and it ends up being lamer than a hill of beans. Let’s take for example, in the kitchen. I’m sitting on the counter eating, and she’s cooking something on the stove. As I’m eating, she might say something equivalent to “Gee, I wonder what the Jolly Green Giant eats to be so green?” So I sit there thinking, “Come on Kyle, laugh! I know it’s bad, but this is your mother here!” Unable to laugh, I end up saying, “Mhm”, if anything.

It was even worse when she tries to do my specialty, really dry humor. Not only does it come out wrong, but due to my extremely competitive nature, I internally sense “!Competitor!” because she’s trying to do my stuff.

And again, not that there’s anything wrong with really, really bad humor!

So, this had been going on for a while. I wasn’t sure if she knew. I thought about maybe telling her, or doing an intervention. However, only last week, I came upon a way out. Once again, we were in the kitchen, and she said something like, “Oh yeah, KetCHUP!” I was just about to say, “Mama. . . we gotta talk,” when out of my mouth, in a jolly, boisterous tone, came 3 words: La la la!

And that did the trick! No longer would I feel sad about pathetic humor, because now I could mock it! Problem solved!