I tend to gravitate toward dead-pan humor, which means that people don't often laugh out loud at my jokes. I am totally fine with this. It's not like I plan jokes in advance in an effort to make people laugh. I don't end up hysterically crying in the bathroom when said jokes don't elicit audible laughter. As you can see, I am completely well-adjusted about this.
Adding insult to injury, it is super difficult to make Gideon laugh out loud unless I tell an incredibly stupid joke. (Gideon is very smart, so he balances it out by laughing at terrible Photoshop and other stupid things.) Last night, though, I did it. I made him laugh really loudly and for a fair amount of time. I'll set the scene for you:
We were snuggling on our futon with the cat between us - apparently it offends him when we touch - and discussing if we should get up and do something or just go to sleep. It was 9 p.m., so clearly I was leaning toward sleep. "We could stay here and sleep," I said, "or we could get up, drink some soda and eat a cigar on the balcony."
I was really tired, so I said this in the same tone all the way through. He started laughing. He called me "cigar eater." While I didn't enjoy the ridicule, I did enjoy having someone laugh at my (unintended) joke. So I went along with it and I laughed louder than him and I think my outburst surprised him into being all sullen and dark again.
I plan to reuse the joke tonight to see if he laughs again, because, of all the things I believe in, beating a dead horse is the most important.
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