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You Are
Not
That Funny
Some people might think my
husband is funny. Others might think
he is just mean. I have learned over the years, it is just Brentley,
that is how he communicates. I often remind him, “You are not that
Funny.” His buddy, Bill, is convinced that Brentley
is a “very funny man.” His humor is often a topic of their
conversations. Brentley’s humor is dry. Often times it is
at the expense of other’s shortcomings. He delivers his single
line offensive with a straight face, never cracking a smile. Some
people might think his comment is criticism, as opposed to the humor he
is so proud of. He is also a negative thinker. He can
bring to any conversation to the negative side fairly quickly. He will
tell you the worst that could happen. He assumes all people are
bad, kids are heathens, dogs are a nuisance, and coworkers are
incompetent.
Me, I am more of a positive person. I usually look for the good things of any situation, people, places and things. I know there is something good about everything! It is a good day. We live in a good world, and I love my life. I also have confidence in human nature. I believe most all people are naturally good. The very few bad apples usually get all of the attention though. I say half full, Brentley says almost empty, when it comes to the glass of water in question
Brentley listens to entirely too much ultra conservative talk radio while his is beating up and down the highways, day in and day out. This only adds fuel to his sarcastic slant on life. Coming from a devout Mormon family allows him to start from the religious right side of the fence. As a truck driver averaging five to seven hundred miles a day, he has too much idle-mind-time on his hands. His mind must constantly churn up these one liners, that he has become known for.
The occasion that I am vividly recalling and attempting to put on paper, happened one morning while I was cooking breakfast. Brentley had been home for several days, adding his negative take to every thing that was discussed in our home. According to him and Bill, all kids are leaches, a drain on everything in their presence. Kid’s pets are even worse, a product of their owner’s faults and neuroses.
With his best humor supporter, Bill, standing close by, the on slaught of criticisms was particularly high that morning. I had had it. Everything Brentley had to say was negative. Not a single good word about my house, family or the world, came out of his mouth that morning.
“Enough is Enough!” I turned from the stove. “Brentley, you are terrible! Negative, Negative, Negative. Can you not say one thing good thing about anything or anybody, ever? Please, say just one positive thing! I dare you. I dare you to try, I bet you can not do it! You can not make a positive comment.”
In his particularly quick witted way, he retorted, “I am positively sure your butt is bigger now, than when I first met you.”
I was stunned, I knew better than laugh. Laughing only makes it worse.
Bill, on the other hand, busted loose with laughter, and, “You are a Funny man, Brentley. You Are a Very Funny Man!, you might not live through this one, but you will die a funny man.”
“Yep, I’m funny.”
Me, I am more of a positive person. I usually look for the good things of any situation, people, places and things. I know there is something good about everything! It is a good day. We live in a good world, and I love my life. I also have confidence in human nature. I believe most all people are naturally good. The very few bad apples usually get all of the attention though. I say half full, Brentley says almost empty, when it comes to the glass of water in question
Brentley listens to entirely too much ultra conservative talk radio while his is beating up and down the highways, day in and day out. This only adds fuel to his sarcastic slant on life. Coming from a devout Mormon family allows him to start from the religious right side of the fence. As a truck driver averaging five to seven hundred miles a day, he has too much idle-mind-time on his hands. His mind must constantly churn up these one liners, that he has become known for.
The occasion that I am vividly recalling and attempting to put on paper, happened one morning while I was cooking breakfast. Brentley had been home for several days, adding his negative take to every thing that was discussed in our home. According to him and Bill, all kids are leaches, a drain on everything in their presence. Kid’s pets are even worse, a product of their owner’s faults and neuroses.
With his best humor supporter, Bill, standing close by, the on slaught of criticisms was particularly high that morning. I had had it. Everything Brentley had to say was negative. Not a single good word about my house, family or the world, came out of his mouth that morning.
“Enough is Enough!” I turned from the stove. “Brentley, you are terrible! Negative, Negative, Negative. Can you not say one thing good thing about anything or anybody, ever? Please, say just one positive thing! I dare you. I dare you to try, I bet you can not do it! You can not make a positive comment.”
In his particularly quick witted way, he retorted, “I am positively sure your butt is bigger now, than when I first met you.”
I was stunned, I knew better than laugh. Laughing only makes it worse.
Bill, on the other hand, busted loose with laughter, and, “You are a Funny man, Brentley. You Are a Very Funny Man!, you might not live through this one, but you will die a funny man.”
“Yep, I’m funny.”
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