Earlier this month, I signed up to “Giggle Blog” started by Susan Jane Jones. I believe the idea is to start the month with a giggle or two.
Rather strangely, since signing up to do this, I seem to have lost my funny bone. Screenscribbler also made mention of the value of humour this month and I whole heartedly agreed with him. Since then, alas, my sense of humour gene has definitely mutated.
I have given this lack of spontaneous hilarity some serious thought. It cannot be that I am under pressure to be funny because I work best under pressure, don’t I?
It cannot be that I really have nothing funny to say because I always have something funny to say, don’t I?
It cannot be that nothing funny has happened because there is always something funny happening around me, isn’t there?
Oh dear, maybe I should try a few ‘knock knock’ jokes instead.
No, nothing funny comes to mind. The dog doesn’t even bark. Flossie has her own troubles this week of course. She has had several trips to the vet and is back for X-rays tomorrow. As she limps around the house, she looks very sorry for herself. I am sure she will tell you all about it later.
As for me, I have been looking after the grandchildren this week. Now, they always raise a smile and the things they say would brighten anyone’s day.
Take Tuesday when three year old William was feeling under the weather. He had just woken from an impromptu nap on the playmat that had been put down for Arthur, 7 months. I had thoughtfully removed Arthur for fear of him throwing a few plastic stacking beakers at William’s head as he slept.
“Grandma,” William called, as he stumbled out of the room to find me, “My legs are all bobbly,”
Luckily, Grandma had just the medicine for “bobbly” legs and she managed to fix his ‘bobbly’ chair as well.
Last summer, I remember looking after William and his little brother, Elliott, for the weekend. After breakfast, I rummaged in their overnight bags for clean clothes and found some lovely T-shirts and shorts which they wore all day. I sent my daughter, their mother, a photo of her boys to assure her they were being well cared for. I thought they looked very cute sitting on the sofa together.
“Glad they are OK but why are they wearing their pyjamas in the middle of the afternoon?” she asked.
Oh dear, I don’t think anyone else had noticed.
Well, in a last ditch attempt to restore my sense of humour I am posting this video of Elliott, 13 months, who despite being apparently too ill to go to nursery last week, did a very good job of getting me to laugh and appears to be trying to outdo the Oscars which are being discussed in the background. (Laughing Policeman watch out!)
What’s so funny?
Hmm, I feel my funny bone tingling. Not sure how to work myself up to a really good giggle by April 1st but I am certainly going to try.