... where family is the source of humor!

Sons, Anyone? by Rhonda Huisman

A picture perfect day out with the family. What can go wrong? A potential opening for a little humor as, well, except that boys will be boys - regardless of age or their mother's wishes at times. Fellow mother of sons - can you relate to Rhonda's story?

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have a daughter. Would I be sharing tea with her teddy bear and dolls, shopping ‘til we drop, fixing her hair with those cute pink ribbons, and having those heart-to-heart talks like you see on those wonderful (sappy) phone commercials? You see, I am the mother of four, yes four, boys. Now I’m not saying they aren’t wonderful in their own ways too, but recently I found myself yet again contemplating how different life would be if there was just one more female, one more kindred soul in my testosterone-driven family.

On a beautiful Sunday afternoon, I decided to take the whole family on a shopping trip. Now realize this doesn’t happen very often, and my better judgment must have taken a day off. As we load into the soccer mobile, the fighting starts, and not just between my husband and I. But as we travel down the road, hunger begins to set in and the children are growing weary from malnourishment. I realize that in order to get anything accomplished, we must stop for a nutritious, home-cooked meal like I always make—I see a Perkins on the horizon and make a bee-line for the parking lot. It seems lots of other moms had the same idea on this glorious day of rest, because the restaurant is packed. Fortunately we get a decent spot away from the vending machines in the lobby (so attractive to the little ones) and not too far from the bathrooms (nice, with a four-year old). My darling sons, who once ate an entire bag of Doritos and a 2-liter of Mt.Dew for supper when I was a few minutes late getting home from work, are waiting ever-so patiently for their entrees, talking and coloring and laughing at each other’s jokes. It was straight out of a Norman Rockwell painting, I swear.

Most mothers of boys will stop reading about now, protesting that I am a fiction writer attempting at my 12 minutes of fame by claiming that the impossible had occurred. Nay, it is true. We ate in peace, the food was hot, and I didn’t have to do the dishes.

When the check came I sent my wonderful loving husband with my glorious children out to the van, left a huge tip, whipped out the checkbook and proceeded to register. But as I walked by an older couple, the man stopped me and said he just wanted to compliment me on what a wonderful, well-behaved family I had. It was then and there I truly believed in miracles. I almost wept, right there in Perkins. I was so astonished, I was prepared to take the kids to the mall and not even make them try on clothes. I politely thanked the man, and said jokingly “We don’t do this very often, but we sure do try.” He said keep up the good work and I bid him adieu.

As I turned to walk out the door, I see my husband and my 4 angelic children laughing hysterically as they are climbing into our vehicle. I open the door. I cautiously approach…and other mothers of boys will know why. You never go into a situation unprepared.

I proceed to hear the loudest “farting” noises I have ever heard in my life coming from my 7-year old and 13-year old, and my 11-year old had begun to give his own belching rendition of the alphabet. He had made it to letter ‘f’ when I arrived. The 4-year old is giggling uncontrollably at this point, falling off his seat and trying to join his brothers in their harmonious attempts. The oldest then begins to do the under-the-arm farting noise, as only 8th-graders can do, and does it with such vigor that the van begins to shake.

I will admit I wanted desperately to scold, to admonish them for their horrible and unacceptable behavior, but that impulse lasted about 5 seconds. I too was over-taken by laughter; it could have also been insanity, but all I know is that I couldn’t even drive away—the tears rolling down my own face were not from frustration, but from the fact that my sons are my sons, and I doubted that moments like these would ever come from those so-desired daughters. Ah, the joys of parenthood.

Our children give us the opportunity to become the parents we always wished we'd had.
-- Louise Hart The Winning Family

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Humor Is Relative thanks Cay Dickson, from Houston Chronicle, for the compliment!

Why must our mothers be ninety-nine and long in the grave before we can come running home with the prize that will make up for all the trouble we have been to them?
-- J.M. Coetzee (Nobel Prize for Literature Banquet Acceptance Speech -Dec 10, 2003)

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Pardon me for being rude.
It was not me, it was my food.
It got so lonely down below,
it just popped up to say hello.
-- Anonymous The Burp

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When you are a mother, you are never really alone in your thoughts. A mother has to think twice, once for herself and once for her child.
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