Bad Joke

Last Wednesday Boss Man drove Boss Lady and me to Taoyuan for our afternoon classes. Boss Lady said Earnest, a bubbly, energetic and wholly adorable 9-year-old, was having a birthday. Then she told me the worst idea for a joke I'd heard in a long, long time:

"The day care teacher wants me to make Earnest cry."

"Why, did he do something bad?"

"No, she just say she can't make him cry, so she want me to make him cry."

"But it's his birthday..."

"I know. So how about I yell at him, make him cry, but then we say, 'Just kidding!' It's your birthday!' and then give him his cake."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Really? You don't think is funny?"

"No! Don't make him cry on his birthday!"

"But don't you think he will be so happy when he find out he not in trouble?"

"No. I think he'll be angry and embarrassed."

"Really? Really? But we give him a cake..."

"I really don't think that's a good idea."

Boss Man chimed in:

"Maybe you should not make him cry."

I have a suspicion that's as strongly-worded as Boss Man's advice to Boss Lady comes.

"Really? Are you sure it's not funny? Really? Okay."

This thankfully thwarted attempt at humor reminded me of a time the summer before I started high school: My parents used their new copier to create a doctored school district form so that it looked like I hadn't been accepted into the 9th grade honor program.

I don't think my parents were sadists. I think they momentarily forgot they were raising a very high strung kid. The ruse was up seconds after they handed it to me. You would've thought someone had died: I burst into tears. Snot poured forth from my nose. I even remember what I said, "Well, I don't know why noooooooot....."

Boss Lady? Highly probable she has a sadistic streak.