The Funniest Things I Have Ever Heard. (Don’t Get Too Excited.)

posted in: Day In The Life, Joke 20
It's an outhouse! Image: Wikipedia.
It’s an outhouse! Haha. Image: Wikipedia.

 

On the bus the other day, I was thinking about the funniest things I have ever heard. I wasn’t thinking “What are the funniest stories I’ve ever heard?” and I wasn’t thinking about the funniest jokes I’ve ever heard, either. You might be thinking, “What else is there?” but I can explain.

You see, I remembered something out of nowhere that I hadn’t thought about in years — and I recalled that, at the time I came across it, I had never heard anything so hilarious in my entire life. I was eight, so don’t get too excited.

It was a little handwritten sign in a bathroom in Door County. The sign read:

“If you sprinkle when you tinkle, be a sweetie and wipe the seatie.” 

I was helpless with laughter. I had never known anything more genius and silly and funny and gross in all my life. It was a real gem for eight-year-old Mary, let me tell you. Clearly, it stayed with me.

So after thinking about that for awhile and, yes, chuckling a little (mostly about me at eight, giggling until I could hardly breathe, not so much about the pee thing), I wondered about other things like that. What were the other funniest things I have ever heard?

The second thing that came to mind happened when I was in high school, so again: No need to brace yourself for nuanced, sophisticated comedy, here. I was working as a waitress at the local Pizza Hut.

…and that’s it. That’s the funniest thing: Me, in high school, slingin’ pies at the local Pizza Hut.

I’m kidding! Although there is some comedic value to that sentence. It has something to do with the word “Hut.”

But seriously: The Pizza Hut’s manager’s name was Steve. That poor guy. He had a bunch of ne’er-do-well high school kids to corral all day and his “office” was a computer shoved into corner near the walk-in. He could’ve been a jerk — but he was so nice! He was understanding and cool but never inappropriately cool. Like, Steve wouldn’t buy us beer or let us take pizzas home for free. Steve was great. He was also a real cornball. That means he told corny jokes and was fond of puns.

One day, I got to work and Steve had clearly gotten a haircut. I said, “Hey, Steve! You got your haircut!”

And Steve snapped his fingers and pointed to me and said, “No, Mary: I got ’em all cut.”

I blinked. I cocked my head. And then I got it. And I loved it. I thought it was genius. Ha! Got ’em all cut! Because you don’t get a hair cut! You get ’em all cut! Oh, man. What a knee-slapper.

The other other thing I came up with was that my friend Nellie told me in college that she and her sisters, when they were kids, used to roll down this hill in the backyard. One day, her sister pooped her pants as she was rolling down the hill and after that, they called it “Poopy Hill.”

Yes, I am aware that two of the three of the funniest things I am claiming to have ever heard have to do with the bathroom. I sincerely hope that if I keep thinking about more wildly hilarious things, this will not be the case.

Booster? You Brought’er.

posted in: Day In The Life 7
The Carlisle 71100 Red Dual Seat Booster Seat. Too much to ask for?
The Carlisle 71100 Red Dual Seat Booster Seat. Too much to ask?

I have a chair-to-table distance problem.

Have I mentioned the NYC apartment is furnished?** It’s tastefully appointed, thank goodness, but there are quirks. For example: the dining room table stands about 2.5 ft. tall. This is Yuri’s calculation, and he used his actual foot as a measuring stick, but it seems about right. The chairs at the table, the seats of them, they come up about 1.5 Yuri feet from the floor. This means that when I sit at the table, I have a Munchkin thing happening. It’s one thing to eat a meal eye-level with your food, but this set up is terrible for typing.

Presently, I am sitting atop a large stack of cushions. The large stack of cushions has replaced the small box of books I had been using all week; the box is breaking open and all squished, which let me tell you does wonders for my self-esteem. A delicate flower I am not.

I require a tuffet!

Or a booster seat.

Seriously, I need a booster seat. Because buying a taller chair is not an option. I live in Manhattan and I am not rich, therefore there is no room for extra chairs lying about. That’s precious square footage, comrade. If I could replace a shortie chair with a taller chair, well, then we’d be in the business, but these chairs do not belong to me. They stay.

As it turns out, there is a market for adult booster seats, though none of them I’ve found are for people who need a good, old-fashioned boost at the dinner table. There are adult booster seats for diminutive folks to put in the driver’s seat of their respective automobiles (good idea) and there are booster seats for the infirm or aged. Some of these boosters come spring-loaded, making it easier to get up out of one’s chair. That sounds like great fun. I’d love to spring! out of my chair whenever I felt like getting up, but these chairs don’t seem to add much height — their “boost” is a boost out, not up.

I worked at Pizza Hut for two years in high school. One of our “sidework” jobs was to “wipe down the boosters.” Oh, the accumulated hours spent sani-wiping sauce- and parmesan cheese-encrusted red plastic seats. I’ll never get that time back. Of course, I was a junior in high school and failing Algebra II, so I don’t think I’d take it back if I could.

Yuri says he’ll buy me a booster seat. It’s turning into a kind of “If I can’t buy my baby a booster chair, what kind of man can I be?” thing, but I actually don’t know if we’ll have luck. The car seat things are ugly and might not work in a wooden chair. The geriatric versions are not exactly right so far. And as much as the man appreciates my, um… As much as Yuri enjoys watching me leave a room, he has to admit that my bum is not going to fit into a child’s booster seat. Which would be weird of us, anyhow, and probably intensely uncomfortable for me.

Should I make something? From scratch? Should I make a tuffet from scratch??

These are the questions.

** It has recently come to my attention that I repeat myself. My sister made it clear last night at dinner, exasperated that I had told her a certain something at least twice before. It has recently come to my attention that I repeat myself. My sister and I were having dinner.