It's good to know that after 15 years, my husband can still make me laugh with his adolescent humor. Being the only female in this house, I am subject to lots of fart jokes, lots of physical comedy (usually involving some part of my body hurting the day after being head butted by my boy who is bursting with love for me) and I must resort to the polite voice in my head, the Lutheran mommy who says "that's enough!"
But there is also some part of me, that used to be much bigger, louder and far more profane. I know this might be hard for some of you to believe, knowing me to be the delicate flower that I am. I used to swear like a truck driver (and still can, when behind the wheel), and have been known in my house to "cut one" on occasion.
Last night, we just were on a downhill slide into potty mouth and innuendo, which was the most fun I've had in a while. It started when Joe-Henry, getting ready for his bath, brought up the fact that one of our very favorite singers, Justin Roberts was on Jack's Big Music Show yesterday. It was a show about different styles of music, and Joe-Henry was trying to describe the music Justin played he kept saying "It was screwbay music". "What?!" my husband said with a chuckle. "SCREW-BAY music" Joe-Henry said, slower and louder this time. I walked into the bathroom at this point and said "Um.... don't you mean zydeco?" "YES! Zydeco!" he shouted, triumphantly. (Say them back to back now, and notice how "Zydeco" sounds exactly like "Screwbay") At this point, Charley said in his best deadpan voice, "I believe I've been to Screwbay.com" "you were the high bidder, weren't you honey?" was my equally deadpan reply.
At his point, Joe-Henry has moved on and is in the tub, playing with his fish, when two of his plastic friends began having a conversation at the fish cafe. "I'm going to go over here and do your mom!" one of the fish, (I believe it was Joseph) said to the other fish. Charley raised his eyebrows to me, and I said "F.I.L.F."? He had to leave the room at that point, but returned in time to hear "Amanda" talking to "Isabella". Half of the fish have southern accents, and half of them sound like Peter Lorre, but Amanda sounds like a big, burly wrestler, for some reason. So naturally, Charley mistakenly called Amanda "Joseph". He was corrected immediately by Joe-Henry, who rolled his eyes at his dense daddy, who turned to me and said "of course - Amanda. A man - DUH!", at which point it was my turn to leave the bathroom.
The rest of the night went on like that, with Joe-Henry blissfully unaware that his parents were living in an alternate universe, where everything related to sex, and everything was hysterically funny.
It's nice to know that I can visit that universe once in a while. But guess what? It's morning again in our household, my darling, hysterically funny husband is off being responsible at work, and now I guess it's my turn. The dishwasher is calling me. Why am I smiling? The dishwasher sounds just like Amanda!