At the moment, Betty thinks I’m freakin’ hilarious.
It started out innocently enough. As Jennifer will attest, I’m not always the best at putting my clothes away. I was checking to see if a pair of my underwear was “good” using the well-known sniff technique. (Sorry, folks, turns out that I’m more of a ‘dude’ than I may let on. I was disheartened by this fact as well, as my college years are very far behind me.)
It turns out this particular pair was *not* good, and I had a brief reaction. Feel free to enjoy the pun, if you are at all predisposed to doing so.
Betty, who was in the tub at the time, laughed a little bit. It was a tiny cackle. As anyone will tell you, I will sometimes take a scientific approach to humor which can succeed or fail accordingly. In this case, I gingerly smelled the underpants again.
“Stinky!” I shouted. More laughter. I repeated the motion, refining my pause between the sniff and the reaction. Even more laughter. I crossed my eyes, I swooned. She was becoming hysterical.
Needless to say things progressed to me stumbling around the bathroom with the underwear on my head, pretending to hit the wall with my face, all the while screaming, “Stinky! Stinky!!!” She was completely losing it by this time and anyone who knows me knows I couldn’t let it end there.
Eventually the underwear ended up in the tub and we had to move on to socks. The underwear just wasn’t stinky any more and I have a very method approach to stink-related humor.
The bottom line, however, is that one just can’t become a successful kid comedian with a dirty-underwear-smelling act. It might play okay in this house, but it’d be hard to take it on the road.
I’m going to have to expand my repertoire.