Dancing Without Rhythm: Funny

As a child, in my home, being funny was the prize to be won. Being the funniest was the ultimate goal. There are some VERY funny people in my family. It wasn't until I was in my early 20's that I realized we got every ounce of our "Smith Humor" from my mother. My dad can't even tell a scripted joke to save his soul. And sometimes he'll try a pun and laugh and laugh before he can say it and when he does, you wish desperately that you could have gone the rest of your life never hearing it, it's so bad. One of the funniest things my brothers have done, is imitate my father telling a joke. Now, THAT'S funny. My mom was my mom. She wasn't funny. She was the one who told us to get to bed, do our homework, take out the trash, not go out of the house in dirty underwear, no one likes an know-it-all, etc. It wasn't in her job description to be funny. So, I never noticed.

Well, a couple of days ago my friend Epsi sent me an email that made me laugh heartily. Of course, I immediately forwarded it to a dozen more people, as though I were the creative genius behind it.

The email read: ATTENTION: ALIENS ARE COMING TO ABDUCT ALL THE GOOD LOOKING AND SEXY PEOPLE. YOU WILL BE SAFE; I'M JUST EMAILING TO SAY GOODBYE.

The responses I have gotten have all made me laugh. My sister simply wrote, "I beg to differ" and added three pictures of herself, which had obviously JUST been taken outside her house with the digital camera. She's posing sexily in front of a tree, accessorizing with a scarf. They were funny, but they were TWICE as funny because she is VERY pregnant and clearly having trouble with the more seductive leg bend and back tilts. But that certainly didn't stop her from trying.

Other responses I got:

Thank you for the warning. I will greatly miss your good looking and sexy self.

Not only are you dang good looking....but humble!

AAAAHHHHH!...oh wait, only the sexy people? yep, I'm safe.

Is this before or after your Oregon trip? Thank you for thinking of me, you will be missed. Good luck, I hear the anal probes are a beast.

And then my mother. She's 71. Shouldn't she have a diminished capacity by now? Of any kind? I mean, she can still peel and chop a carrot faster than I can do the same with a cuisanart. She can whip through 17 loads of laundry in one day and make it look like she barely handwashed some delicates and hung them to dry. She can find anything you need at any time for any purpose. Usually in her purse or tied to a string in her kitchen. She can make a pair of SAS shoes, hot pink pants, hot pink turtle neck with purple cardigan, and 3 chained eyeglasses around her neck look way cuter than I could ever try to be in my finest clothes and accessories. *Sigh* Above all, she's still the cleverest of them all.

Her response to my email:
TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN: THIS E-MAIL WAS UNDELIVERABLE. THE RECEIPIENT IS EVIDENTLY NO LONGER ON THIS PLANET. SORRY (YOU'RE LATE----ABDUCTIONS ARE OVER)

I made the mistake of telling my mom on the phone, "Your response took the cake mom." She gloated aloud and then bragged to my sister who was sitting nearby. I heard my sister swear and I knew my mom was in gloaters gloating heaven because she didn't even tsk at her.
But I will. S, watch your mouth. At least you have potential for when you're 71.

Posted by Angela on Wednesday, November 15, 2006 at 11/15/2006 | Permalink

Dancing Without Rhythm

You can count on me if you want to....What's 'count on me' mean?

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