Recently, the FYO has been trying on some humor. But her timing is WAY off.
The obvious favorite path to what she hopes is a good laugh is the trusty "April-Fool's Joke." Such repartee requires a specific sort of delivery, I've learned, to be understood as the wisecrack it was intended to be.
Ridiculous statement. Pause. Then, the recognizable singsongy "APRIL" pause followed by the two-syllabled "FOO-HOOLS!" and usually an inspiring laugh by the comedienne.
The FYO doesn't yet have the pattern down so when the "Ridiculous Statement" is made and not followed relatively immediately by the above-stated pattern, I often don't recognize it as such.
Yesterday the FYO and BioMom and I went to the highly pagan May Day festival in the Powderhorn Neighborhood in Minneapolis. We parked near a make-shift bar-b-que at a student-type house with a bunch of kids hanging out outside. It looked (and smelled) like a blast.
The FYO: I want to move HERE!
Me: Yeah. It DOES look fun, doesn't it. Said while drooling.
The FYO: APRILFOOLSILOVEOURHOUSE. All run together.