1. Pest Control
I was home with my children on Saturday night (husband was working) and my 3-year-old ran into the bedroom where I was putting away laundry (Saturday nights are nothing but debauchery, that's just how I roll), yelling "come see the cookit, Mom, come see the cookit". I followed him and there it was, a cricket with legs like Jesse Owens, hopping around my older son's bedroom. The little one was yelling at me to "get it", and the older one, who had spent the early part of the evening constructing elaborate Lego machines and then demonstrating their features (his word), said "hold on, I got it" and ran out and back with a Lego machine that had a catapult-type device. "See, he'll just jump in here, and then I'll fire him out the window". We chased the cookit around for a bit, me with a dustpan (this has worked in the past, we're usually invaded with crickets in the fall) and him with his catapult, with the 3-year-old screaming "come on, Cookit, get in the shubble." The legs finally got the better of us; the thing took off like a pole vaulter at the Penn Relays, and we lost him. I'm sure I'll wake up one morning and he'll be on the pillow next to my head.
2. "Hey! I lived through the Depression! I fought in a war! I have white hair and teeth that were made in a factory! Manners? Hell, that crap doesn't apply to me anymore...I'm 150 years old!" (flibbety floo)
Trust me, this one was not that funny while it was actually occurring. I'm in the insanely crowded grocery store and about to get in the line to get turkey for my 3-year-old's lunches this week (he loves him a turkey sandwich). There are at least 150 people in the line. OK, there are about 10. An 80-or-so lady decides to take 15 minutes to explain her order in kill-me-now detail to the clerk, who can be described only as beleagured. THEN, she takes another 15 minutes to OPEN AND INSPECT each of her packages to ensure that her lunchmeats are cut exactly to her specification ("tissue-paper thin"). OK, Estelle, NOT OK to keep a whole line of people waiting while you torment the deli clerk! NOT OK! So then I'm in the parking lot, I've just gotten my children into the car and I'm loading the trunk with a week's worth of groceries when another member of the Greatest Generation rolls up in his land yacht and starts HONKING AT ME! I turn and give him a "what?" expression and he POINTS AT MY PARKING SPACE!!! OK, Herbert, there's a WHOLE parking lot here, but if you want this space, you need to wait for it! I gave a little shrug with a gesture toward the cart...OK, see, I'm unloading my cart, so I can't move just yet...and he HONKS AGAIN! Like 5 more times, all the while pointing at my parking space! Again, not at all funny while it was happening, and the whole clean-up-my-language-in-front-of-the-children initiative went right to hell once I got back in the car, but I see the humor now. I do.
I hope something made you laugh this weekend.