Friday, April 29, 2011

Don Rickles, I am Not

The other day, I was walking down the hallway at my daughter's middle school. My husband's former roommate from freshman year at college happened to be strolling just ahead of me with his pride and joy: identical twin daughters. He and I have conversed many times when our kids were not around about our lives with twins, but on this occasion Scott was able to gesture to his girls and mention, "Hey, Kim! These are MY twins." I am not exaggerating when I say his daughters are extraordinarily beautiful. Scott really must obtain a license to carry a concealed weapon, because in another year or two, he will need to start wearing a long leather duster from under which he can whip out a pump-action sawed-off shotgun to scare away all the teenage boys.

In response to his introduction of these stunning creatures, I drily remarked, "Gee, Scott. Too bad your girls are so ugly." Except the delivery was all wrong. It was more like, "Gee, Scott." pause *crickets* pause "Too bad your girls are so UGLY." pause *blink blink* pause

I don't think Scott quite heard me—or maybe his brain was trying to process my hilariosity—but one of the girls immediately widened her eyes in horror. She couldn't believe that some poorly-dressed, elderly woman had just verbally abused her. I should have gone for the hyperbole factor, with "and FAT, too! and MEAN!" until they realized I was joking. But, no.

I attempted a conspiratorial wink with an explanatory, "Heh! You're beautiful!" to the girl, but it came out as an eye tic and indecipherable mutter. Then, in desperation, I turned to Scott and in a overly bright voice, exclaimed, "Your girls are gorgeous!" He looked confused and kept walking. The girls rushed past in awkward silence.

When will I learn that if you have to explain a joke, it isn't funny. You see, I was saying the OPPOSITE of the truth . . . er . . . um . . . pfft . . .

Also, Don Rickles is a totally hip and contemporary reference.



Dinner last night: ham and bean soup, cornbread

Exactly one year ago:

Exactly two years ago:

Exactly three years ago:




10 comments:

Katherine said...

This is how nearly all my attempts at humor go.

Dianna@KennedyAdventures said...

Awww man!! I hate that for you!!

And I totally know who Don Rickles is!

Kathy G said...

So, I'm wondering how many of your readers will have to Google Don Rickles to figure out the reference :-)

LisaDay said...

Oh dear. Those things always happen to me, too.

LisaDay

Karen Peterson said...

I've definitely been there!

I don't know who to feel for more in this scenario. But I'm leaning more toward you because, really, if the kid is that beautiful, her ego can take it. Right...? ;-)

Making It Work Mom said...

Oh my gosh! This is too funny. Please tell me you didn't have your middle schooler with you - she would have died!

I love how they all had such horrified expressions on their faces.

Mother Mayhem said...

BWAHAHA. Sorry. Couldn't contain myself. ;o)

lilmansworld said...

LOL! I know of DR because of Toy Story movies

Michele said...

How awkward and embarrassing for you. I feel your pain. I'd like to think that I've learned my lesson and would know when to refrain; sadly, this is not always the case.

Maybe if you email Scott a link to this post, all will be forgiven!

Don Rickles is Mr.
Potatohead in Toy Story; contemporary people ought to know who he is.

The Shultzs said...

Awwwww Kim, I hate that for you. =\ I hope you are able to mend things someday. =\
In the mean time hugs to you. =]