Two stories
First story:
On Christmas Eve, we had dinner with my dad and his wife. We told some jokes, and Matt wanted to join in. He said he wanted to tell the stupidest joke he had ever heard. We were game, so he told his joke, "How does a dinosaur come out of the water?"
...
...
...
We couldn't guess.
So he gave us the answer: "Wet."
harharhar.
We rolled our eyes and the conversation continued on to other things.
After a few minutes, Paul chuckled and said, "Oh, I just got that joke."
My dad and I laughed harder at Paul than at the actual joke.
'nother story:
This morning, I accompanied the Kids' Co. kids on a field trip to the local rollerskating venue. The place smelled like stale pee, but I managed to survive. The kids were excited, the music loud and energetic, and the atmosphere (except for the smell) party-like. I was suddenly whisked back in time to those years when I went rollerskating with Jenni and Julie. I distinctly remember being able to skate well enough to try going backwards a couple of times, although I was never able to do the wipeout stance for very long (one little girl today called it the "lightbulb").
Pretty soon I was dancing on the sidelines with a co-worker to the booming music (I did shake my booty to "Pokerface" and some song by that Beiber kid--GenX, please forgive me!) and we decided to get our groove on while wearing rollerskates. We went to the counter and asked for our sizes. I was stoked when I put the skates on that I guessed right with 8s and didn't have to ask for 9s. I laced up the skates, stood up....
and immediately realized that my ankle muscles are made of silly putty and my hips are of creaky balsa wood.
I managed to flail my way to the first segment of the half wall, and it only got worse. My feet kept trying to veer off into different directions and my legs screamed like a siren warning of imminent horrendous destruction.
I had to keep stopping every twenty feet or so to give my ankles a rest. After what seemed like fourteen hours of struggling and constant windmilling of my arms, I finished my first lap.
Oh great god of athletic endeavors, I hope you stop laughing long enough to grant me one wish: that I never feel the urge to rollerskate ever ever ever again.
On Christmas Eve, we had dinner with my dad and his wife. We told some jokes, and Matt wanted to join in. He said he wanted to tell the stupidest joke he had ever heard. We were game, so he told his joke, "How does a dinosaur come out of the water?"
...
...
...
We couldn't guess.
So he gave us the answer: "Wet."
harharhar.
We rolled our eyes and the conversation continued on to other things.
After a few minutes, Paul chuckled and said, "Oh, I just got that joke."
My dad and I laughed harder at Paul than at the actual joke.
'nother story:
This morning, I accompanied the Kids' Co. kids on a field trip to the local rollerskating venue. The place smelled like stale pee, but I managed to survive. The kids were excited, the music loud and energetic, and the atmosphere (except for the smell) party-like. I was suddenly whisked back in time to those years when I went rollerskating with Jenni and Julie. I distinctly remember being able to skate well enough to try going backwards a couple of times, although I was never able to do the wipeout stance for very long (one little girl today called it the "lightbulb").
Pretty soon I was dancing on the sidelines with a co-worker to the booming music (I did shake my booty to "Pokerface" and some song by that Beiber kid--GenX, please forgive me!) and we decided to get our groove on while wearing rollerskates. We went to the counter and asked for our sizes. I was stoked when I put the skates on that I guessed right with 8s and didn't have to ask for 9s. I laced up the skates, stood up....
and immediately realized that my ankle muscles are made of silly putty and my hips are of creaky balsa wood.
I managed to flail my way to the first segment of the half wall, and it only got worse. My feet kept trying to veer off into different directions and my legs screamed like a siren warning of imminent horrendous destruction.
I had to keep stopping every twenty feet or so to give my ankles a rest. After what seemed like fourteen hours of struggling and constant windmilling of my arms, I finished my first lap.
Oh great god of athletic endeavors, I hope you stop laughing long enough to grant me one wish: that I never feel the urge to rollerskate ever ever ever again.
Comments
Matt is one silly kid with his jokes.