Snarky.... The New Funny!

I am not funny.

I am dry, ascerbic, ironic, sarcastic. But not really funny in a side splitting laugh out loud kind of way like my brother Sean. That's okay. Dane is the same way except when he is going for corny(don’t get me started on that topic we’ll be here all day), so we get one another.

Unfortunately, as the kids get older, they are starting to get us too.

Sometimes, in some ways, that's kind of cool.

The other day at dinner, Teen 1, always in motion, was perched upon one knee, precariously balanced on his chair, bent over his plate shoveling food into his mouth as fast as he could (I feed him on a regular basis I promise).

So I said to him in my best June Cleaver voice, "Oh Teen 1, sit in your chair properly. We do not hunch over our food like an animal over its kill."

Teen 2 said appreciatively, "Wow, Mom, good analogy!"

I felt strangely gratified and also kind of warm and fuzzy at the realization that he possessed a similar sense of humor, as well as the intelligence with which to recognize and understand its subtleties.

But occasionally I forget that my kids are old enough to grasp the nuances of sarcasm.

It used to be that Dane and I could remark back and forth over their heads without them having any real idea of whom or what we were discussing. Not anymore. Now we have to censor ourselves carefully. We have to save the really unsavory commentary for when we are alone. We have to set a good example.

And that's sometimes not so cool. Or so easy.

The other day in the car, we were behind a woman in an SUV who was talking on the phone. This is one of my HUGE pet peeves and the boys know it well, so I suppose they were already attuned to what I might say. This woman, as it happened, was swerving from lane to lane, often straddling the center line for minutes at a time.

I'm very verbal behind the wheel to begin with. It's really one of my worst habits. I grumble. I castigate. I profane. If you have ever driven with my father, you will understand how I came to be the driver I am today, except when my mother is in the car. How hypocritical is that?

So when I encounter someone who is endangering everyone around them simply because they can't be bothered to SHUT THEIR PIE HOLE and drive, it's simply beyond me to withhold my scorn.

Deepening my voice and affecting a distinctive radio announcer cadence, I said,

"Contestant #1 in the big honkin SUV...Choose a lane any lane! Choose carefully as your prize will depend upon the lane you choose! Will it be a functional but stylish cervical collar, or the always fashionable body cast? Take your time, but remember, you lose valuable mortality points for every moment you spend straddling the center line! If you lose all your points, you'll end up in the graveyard, and only a golden defribrilator can ressurect you!"

I was sort of caught up in my own cleverness, really enjoying the mockery, when I heard a snort from the backseat.

I looked in the rearview mirror to find Teen #2 smirking at me.

"What?" I demanded.

"That was really funny Mom."

I smiled and again felt very gratified that my son had recognized and appreciated my wit.

Then he said,

"Snarky, but very funny."

"Snarky???" I huffed. "That woman is going to kill somebody!!"

"Chill Mom. Did you ever hear of road rage? Have you learned nothing from Grandpa? Sheesh."

Hmph.

So you see how this newfound perceptiveness of theirs can be a double-edged sword.