Hey, funny people.
Many of you crack me up in the comments on this site — which makes me think you might appreciate this, so I’m going to share. It’s an essay I wrote for The New York Times about humor: where it comes from, how we develop it, and how it helps us get through life. I’m turning off the buttons and comments here, but feel free to click over and visit it there if you’re so inclined:
I was a tiny bit nervous about this, because I almost never write about my kids. I feel strongly about their privacy. Plus, they have so many stories to tell in their voices (not mine) one day. So this is unusual territory for me; but I wrote it because it’s been brewing in my head for quite some time, this thought on humor.
My little guy is one of the most wonderfully complex human beings I’ve ever met, and I’ve learned so much from him. He did read the article, and he’s cool with it. (He’s also a total pre-teen and has angst about being teased at school, so please, if you happen to know us in real life, don’t mention it to him. He’d be all, “GAH, MOM, GROSS, STOP TALKING ABOUT ME, GO STAND OVER THERE.”) We had a sweet little discussion about this in which we got all real and vulnerable and deep. Then we made some armpit noises and went on with our day.
Anyway. Thanks for the support, friends. Back to the usual jackassery next time.