I had a nice phone call with my mom today. It's a good way to get grounded without it meaning that I can't go out with my friends for the weekend. I was discussing the birthday gift I'd purchased for Milo (gee, I hope he's not reading this - he might find out what it is), and she reminded me of an early incident in which I proved how wry was my wit.
I was an early reader, solo by age 4 but well into the basics before that. The incident in question occurred at age 2, according to my mother. Remember those magnetic letters made out of colored plastic that you learned how to fling at your little brother like a ninja shurken spell your first words with (usually across the fridge door)? Yeah, those. I took one of them, the letter T, and inserted it into a little cup. Then I triumphantly approached my mom and offered her... "a cup of T." I believe there were witnesses - I always loved performing for an audience.
That episode of course leads me to one afternoon a decade later, about age 14. I was heading out with some friends and my mom asked me to "flip off the light switch on [your] way out." So of course, I approached the light switch in question, gracefully extended my middle finger in the gesture I'd been practicing since 5th grade, flashed a cheeky grin and held for applause. She may have thrown a pillow (well, what are "throw pillows" for, if not for throwing?). I don't remember much after that, so heady was my sense of superior comic timing. Or maybe she really nailed me with a pillow and gave me amnesia.
And I wonder where my kids get their seemingly innate sense of wry sarcasm and irony. Must be all that Simpsons and Family Guy they watch.