Nothing of Which to Make Fun

Maybe it’s me, but is it possible that I have been unkind in writing about my family’s foibles?  Was it perhaps unwise to make sport of my nearest and dearest? 

Nah, I didn’t think so.  Lest we forget, what was it my husband said when I first started writing?  ”Well, as long as you get paid for it, then I can take it.”  I usually run most things by him at some point, though.  So far, he hasn’t been offended, but he did say that it might be good to ask him BEFORE I publish the article.   A point to consider, I suppose. 

The kids are okay with being mentioned, at least mostly, since I don’t use their names, and nobody really knows who I am.  Not yet, anyway.  I asked them what they would do once I made it big and became a well-known public figure…… They didn’t seem very worried about it.

Still, I thought it was probably time to pick on somebody my own size.  Since I fit that description perfectly, I sat down to write about my own little idiosyncrasies.  I had freshly sharpened pencils, a couple of pens, and several sheets of paper.  But nothing came to me.  I started to doodle, thinking that would lead into some writing.  After a while, I had drawn out the blueprints for a second bathroom, drawn to scale, but still had no ideas for making fun of myself.

I took a break to do some research.  I asked my husband what I do that bugs him.  He looked at me like I had lost my mind, and said in a more-than-somewhat-sarcastic tone, “Oh, nothing at all, dear.”

“No, really,” I said.  ”There must be something.  Tell me, so I can write about it.  I always pick on you; it’s my turn now.  I should highlight my own foibles.”

“No way,” he replied. “And how did you get foibles?  Are they contagious?”

I tried again, “Really, it’s ok.  Consider this a journalistic interview, and you can say whatever you want.  No consequences.”

 ”Do I look that stupid?” he asked, and walked out of the room.

Maybe the kids would be a little more forthcoming.  And a lot more gullible about that ‘no consequences’ thing.  I started with our youngest son, who explained how annoying it is that I want the house to be clean.  Well, I suppose it does annoy him, but I really think that trying to stay one level above being reported to the Health Department is more of a maternal obligation than a personal eccentricity.   

The three-year old told me that I bug her when she’s watching TV, “especiawy” when I tell her to turn it off.  Once again, I’m not sure this qualifies as a fault; it’s actually my job.  

I turned to our oldest daughter.  As an almost-teen, surely she would have SOME suggestion.  Her contribution: when she tells me that I’m mean or unfair, I don’t react appropriately.  Rather than apologize, I say things like, “I try.”  Or, “Good to know my plan is working.” 

Well, I can see how that bugs her, but I’m not really sure it’s any kind of character defect on my part.  In fact, it’s probably a character asset, because it allows me to cope with her pre-teen whining. 

At this point, I gave up.  You can’t say that I didn’t try to find some personal quirk of mine; it’s just that nobody came up with anything valid.  Clearly, my character and personality are pretty much unassailable.  Well, that much is clear to me anyway.