In an ongoing effort to get Tyler to speak to his peers, his teacher, Mrs. Colwick, uncovered the one thing that seems to nudge him out of his shell: a good joke.
Every night he brings home a book of riddles. He picks one out, rehearses it to me, then challenges his class with his “Joke of the Day.” It is his moment to shine; and some days, it’s the only time his classmates hear his voice.
“Why did the bee go to the doctor?” he challenged me earlier this week after flipping through “The Big Book of Jokes and Riddles.”
I didn’t deliberate too long. If I could have a popsicle stick for every riddle I’ve pondered, only to end up disappointed with the punch line, I could build myself a house.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Why DID the bee go to the doctor?”
“Because,” he divulged through stifled laughter, “he had hives!”
He slapped both knees and laughed, heartily, until he was gasping for air.
“That’s a good one!” I feigned my most enthusiastic chuckle. “…But do you understand WHY it’s funny?”
The laughter ceased.
“No,” he confessed.
“You see, bees live in hives,” I explained. “And at the same time, hives are red bumps that pop up on your skin whenever you’re allergic to something.” It dawned on me that he didn’t know what allergic meant, either, so I clarified that, too. “So it’s playing on the word ‘hives’…see?”
He stood for a moment, puzzled. Then he resumed flipping through his book. “I’m going to find another one,” he sulked.
“No, don’t do that! It was funny!” I insisted. “I just think when you hear a joke, you should understand WHY it’s funny!”
He didn’t look up. He just kept silently flipping.
I’d done it. I’d promptly over-explained his joke to death, squelched his budding comedic endeavors, and sapped the joy from the one thing that inspired my boy to speak. I decided from that point on, I would laugh and let it be.
Yesterday I reminded Doug that it was December 21, which marks the winter solstice. “Today is the shortest day of the year!” I informed him. “That means starting tomorrow, the days are getting to get up to three minutes longer!”
“That’s not the only thing that’s about to get longer,” was his predictable response.
My friend Debbie recently brought my attention to “Witzelsucht,” which is a disorder that causes people to compulsively make inappropriate jokes and puns. I don’t know why I continue to laugh at my husband’s round-the-clock sexual jokes and innuendoes even when they’re mediocre at best, but I do. Perhaps there’s a disorder for people who laugh compulsively at mediocre inappropriate jokes as well.
Tyler, who was seemingly absorbed in creating designs with geometric blocks, looked up from his masterpiece and inquired, “Why is that funny?”
Something tells me the “Joke of the Day” in Ms. Colwick’s class is about to get far more interesting.
