i’m funny, damnit
April 30, 2009
You know how those South American soccer players will go crashing to the ground and roll around for 5 minutes like they’re on fire, and maybe they get carted off on a stretcher, only to come sprinting back into the game a minute or two later? Have you seen that aerosol bottle the trainer uses to spray the “injured” area?
I need one of those.
Maddy broke her collarbone this week in a soccer game, and that spray would have totally come in handy. But no dice, so we took her to the orthopede in Park City yesterday.
The word on the street is that this guy is the Man, the top guy, you know, “TOP . . . MEN.”
And so he appears to be. But he didn’t like my jokes.
To be fair, Kim didn’t like my jokes either (but Maddy did).
We’re in the exam room, I’m along for support, and the mood is tense, and when I’m tense, I get a bit jokey. Stuff that just KILLS in my head.
For example, I asked the doctor what kind of plates they use, and would she need to have the plate removed later. He said they used to have generic plates that had to be custom bent for each application or bone, but now they have custom titanium plates, titanium plates that are pre-manufactured and bent for every bone that might need one.
I lamented how tough that was in this economy, you know, for the plate benders. Sad for them.
He looked at me. He blinked. Kim looked desperate, like she might stuff my mouth with gauze to keep me from alienating the guy who would be operating on Maddy the next day. And so, of course, I stopped trying to be funny.
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.
I wish. In fact, I made about 20 more jokes, and the orthopede handed us our surgery registration information as fast as he could, and practically sprinted from the room. Kim looked at me and said “Really? You can’t keep it in for 20 minutes?”
I was going to make a joke here about a prophet and his own country. But that seems a bit, well, much.
Remember when Chandler and Monica went on their honeymoon, and on the return flight, they met a lovely couple who gave them a fake number so they could never call? Chandler accused Monica of asking too many questions, and Monica returned that Chandler told too many jokes. Remember? “Was that a joke?” “Was that a question?”
The drive home was kind of like that. Maddy had that trapped look in her eyes, like she would trade her sixteenth birthday for a pair of huge headphones.