Funny People #1

I’ll never be the funny one – in the family, in the relationship, among my friends, or in the workplace. I’ve come to accept my position in life as the object of the jokes and not the joker. However, I appreciate the humor in others, and I like to surround myself with funny people, particularly those who are funny without effort. One of these amusing characters is my mother. She's here on a visit now, and I can't get enough of her personality. When I'm with her, it's never long before I'm shaking violently with one of those so-hard-I-almost-peed laughs. Here are a few reasons why.

Her Cuban accent: When she wants me to pay attention, she orders me to “Fuck us, Nadya. You must try to fuck us.”

Her colorful idiomatic expressions: 

Concéntrate, mojón de gato. Translation: Concentrate, piece of cat shit.

Yo no soy peo que aguanta calzoncillos. Translation: I’m not the sort of fart that can be held back by underwear.

¡Porque me salió de la papaya! Translation: [Why did I do that?] Because it came out of my vagina, that’s why!

The Magic Wand: When I started attending my first dances at fifteen, my mother sat me down and warned me about what she'd dubbed the Magic Wand (an adolescent boy's erection, caused by irresponsibly close dancing). Before each dance, my mother kissed me, traced the sign of the cross on my forehead, and then whispered ominously, “Beware the Magic Wand!” She frightened me so thoroughly that for the next two years, I maintained more than a Bible’s length distance from my dance partners, afraid of being poked by their deleterious wands.

The Senior Citizen Conundrum: My mother unabashedly asks for the “senior discount” everywhere she goes, but she gives the evil eye and the arthritic middle finger to anyone who dares refer to her by those cursed words: senior citizen.

My Mom Keeps it Real: A few years ago, my mother began asking me to teach her American slang words and bits of pop culture. She wanted to speak the language of the young folks, to keep it real. A few favorites:

Mullet.  My mother now notices mullets everywhere she goes: “Ooh look! There’s a mullet! Business in the front….wait, wait, don’t tell me…I know this…Oh! Party in the back! Right?”

She is tore up from the floor up! My mother likes to say this while people-watching at Wal-Mart.

Vibrators. “Do those things really work? Um, actually, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know, and I don’t want to know if you know.”

Lady Gaga. “I like her! I don’t care if she’s a hermaphrodite. IS she a hermaphrodite? Not that there’s anything wrong with that….”