We all love to laugh. Even better though is making someone laugh. I love nothing better than being silly or telling a joke and hearing someone laughing. It’s infectious.
The other day I realised where I might have got it from. My parents look after H, R and P on Tuesdays. My father (a frustrated, if sometimes ineffective, comedian) was telling H a joke.
‘What’s the difference between a dustbin and a letter box?’ he asked her.
‘Dunno, Grandad’ she replied, trying to sound interested.
‘Well I’m not going to send you to post a letter!’ was my father’s triumphant reply. He laughed uproariously and H just gave him a quizzical look.
He tried the same joke on R. Yes, same result – he laughed uproariously and she rolled her eyes.
Then it was P’s turn (she’s six by the way).
‘What’s the difference between a dustbin and a letter box?’ he asked.
‘One’s grey and the other one is red’
The silence was deafening.
(Dad, it works better if you manage to make the other person laugh)
