Good One, Mom.

What is it about young humans that makes them reluctant to give their mother any credit regarding her sense of humor? We mothers laugh at our kids’ dumb jokes. Why can’t they laugh at ours? When our children still lived under our roof, if they felt particularly generous, they might grant me one “Good one, Mom” every six months or so.

It hasn’t improved much. Last time we were together, I told my family I had a question for them: “How did the radish get its name?”

“Is this a joke?” my youngest asked. I guess he needed to know so that he could better prepare to roll his eyes instead of laugh.

“I don’t know,” one grandson said. “How did the radish get its name?”

“Because it’s sort of rad and sort of not rad,” I said.

Funny, right? 

They stared at me. Except for Nate, the tall one in the corner who appeared to ignore me as he scrolled on his phone.

“You know,” I explained. “It’s like saying, ‘Nate is attentive-ish.’”

Without even looking up, Nate said, “It’s more like saying Mom is funny-ish.”

The brat.

Do your kids do this? I know I’d probably have better luck if I stopped trying so hard, but I can’t seem to help myself. We’ve all heard of Dad jokes. I think Mom jokes deserve a place in society too.

I find my own mother pretty funny but perhaps this is simply an indication of how successfully I’ve matured. At 91, my mother still cracks jokes. As we drove west on Crescent Road one April day, we noticed more ice remaining on the southwest end of the lake than we’d seen further back. “I guess that’s because it’s further south,” she quipped.

Mom’s favorite answer when asked how she’s doing is, “From the ankles up, I’m doing great!” (Sure beats from the ankles down!)

On Easter weekend, I gave her a wee Easter basket. On the ride back to her place, Mom held my childish gift in her lap. It tickled my funny bone to hear her smacking away on jellybeans from her basket. If, at that age, I’m finally successful at making my kids laugh, I sure hope it’s because of something cute like that and not because I’ve fallen and can’t get up.

Given the choice, I suppose there are far more important things I hope my children remember me for than being funny. You too? Like every mom, I want my kids to be able to say I encouraged them, comforted them, supported, and loved them unconditionally—even when I lost my cool. I want them to cherish fond memories of home as a safe place where they felt free to be who they are. A place where Mom humbled herself enough to ask forgiveness when she blew it. I want them to know I’m still here for them should they feel they need me. I want them to know their mother prayed for them every day of their lives whether they believed in prayer or not.

You know what’s truly funny? Any of those things could be accomplished without once cracking a joke.

Happy Mother’s Day!

Mom and Me in 2021