He’s had funny moments before. He’s pulled some physical gags and laughed at himself and then asked if it was silly. But this is his first joke.
Sometime late summer the subject of a sweet dessert came up. He was asking for it and I didn’t know what it was. He wasn’t saying it right. His pronunciation was off. It didn’t make sense. It was something he got somewhere and I didn’t know what it was. At four he’s too young to have things in his life I’m not aware of. We both laughed (hysterically) as I made it into a game of twenty questions. He caught on to the bit and riffed with me.
He was asking for something that sounded to me like “Fruit Myer”.
“Is it cold?”
“Yes!” He said laughing implying that of course it is served cold.
“Is it in the refrigerator or the freezer?”
“It’s in the freezer silly!”
“What color is it?” I asked.
“And what is it called again?”
“I told you. Fruit Myer!”
“I have no idea what this is! Maybe next time we are in the store you can point it out to me.”
“They don’t have Fruit Myer in the store, Silly! You are so crazy.”
“Also, Dude. Fruit Myer is not the preferred nomenclature.” I added.
I have no idea what this stuff is.
My clues so far.
It’s green. It’s served cold. You eat it with a spoon. It makes a mess if you spill it. You get sick if you eat too much of it. Asking if it is bigger than a breadbox makes no sense to him. They don’t sell it at the store. You’d be crazy to think they did.
I’m guessing it’s some kind of green ice cream that my Mother-in-Law bought him.
She was also the source behind another mystery. One that I was able to solve.
That one was easier to piece together.
He asked for a popsicle from the freezer and when it was lemon instead of chocolate he demanded I put it under running water. “It will turn to chocolate!”
“No it won’t.” I said.
“Under the water! It will turn to chocolate! I don’t want lemon! I want chocolate!”
“That doesn’t make any sense! That is impossible!” I yelled back matching his volume for affect. “Running water will not turn frozen lemonade into chocolate! It will turn it into more lemonade!”
I proved this and subsequently disappointed him in the name of science. His expression when I gave him a plastic stick that once held a popsicle was actual comedy.
“See!” I waved it. Again, for affect. “No chocolate!”
I may have over done it. He sulked. Tough audience.
My hypothesis. His Grammy makes him frozen popsicles with chocolate milk. She also makes him some from lemonade. My guess is to help extricate them from their plastic mold she runs them under water to loosen them up. Perhaps the lemonade variety doesn’t need loosening? He must think we have a Willy Wonka sink that can turn anything into a chocolate popsicle?
But. To the current mystery. And joke.
Months later he will call back to the Fruit Myer bit and laugh knowing it’s funny.
It may begin with him chuckling, “Remember the Fruit Myer?”
I will laugh and start the round of the twenty questions again.
Even better is when I catch him laughing to himself and then when I ask him what’s funny he says snickering, “Fruit Myer.”
It’s a joke we share. A joke him and I wrote and one that I think he finds as funny as I do.
Maybe I don’t want to ever know what Fruit Myer is?