My family’s collective sense of humor is irreverent and crude. Throw in filters that tend to be rather porous and open attitudes about sex and you have one very interesting family dynamic. I am not sure where this comes from. Somewhere along the way, my dad departed from a “proper” upbringing and has been shocking my poor grandmother ever since.
Given our humor and our tendencies to play off of one another when gathered together, we have the ability to turn the most innocent of intentions into something irreverent and funny. The last time we had the opportunity to practice this craft together was this past Christmas.
On Christmas day, we were taking turns opening gifts and, at least for a little while, had taken a break from the crude and irreverent. It was my turn to open a gift, so picked up a gift from my grandmother. Before tearing into the package, I opened the card and found a form letter, sent out to family and friends, inside. I read the letter out loud. It was rather typical of my grandmother, expounding upon the wonders of Christmas; snow, lights, jesus, family, etc. The letter was fairly mundane until she described her love for Christmas trees. “I just thrill at setting up the beautiful tree, with strings of lights, with tinsel, with the magnificent angels with golden balls.” There was a slight pause before the room erupted with peals of laughter. Angels with golden balls quickly became the joke de jour and we got hours of amusement at my poor well-intentioned grandmother’s expense.
A day or two later we took a trip to the mall to redeem the gift certificates that were burning holes in our pockets. We designated the calendar kiosk in the middle of the mall as our meet-up place and went our separate ways. After we had redeemed the gift certificates, we returned to the calendar kiosk with our spoils and decided to look through the calendars before leaving the mall. I saw my sister spot something interesting and watched her dart towards the item of interest. She picked up a calendar from the shelf, held it up, and said, “Look! Pink angels.” In response, my father who (1) didn’t use his “indoor voice” and (2) swears the following comment was an innocent mistake, not a Freudian slip, yells out “but where are his blue balls!?”
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7 comments:
Your family sounds like a hoot!! I would have laughed too. It would have been way too hard not to!
Your dad is awesome. :-)
That sounds like a story straight outta my family, too. I love it.
I can't imagine angels having anything but golden balls.
OMG, this post is too funny :)
I love it! My family gets funny and irreverent when we get together too, only we usually dog each other like crazy. Good times, good times.
Did anyone else picture the statue of Moroni with a golden pair while reading this?
Your comments are bustin' me up.
Sideon: Absolutely! What else could they have?
Jer: Moroni is going to have a close encounter with the two of us at 3am some morning in the future. You bring the ladder.
RF, WC, and SML: Wouldn't it be awful to be in a "proper" family? You're not a family if you can't discuss blue balls.
Seriously, my dad is so anal, he'd insist immediately after he heard "blue balls" that we refer to them as "blue testicles, thank you very much."
Hahaha. I remember once saying to my sibling, "Ouch! You hit my boob!"
Dad: "It's breast, not boob. Say it correctly, children." (He actually ROLLED THE R. I kid you not.)
The rest of the day we ran around saying BARRRESSSST while rolling the R. Classic, classic fun.
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