Ma (hushed voice): Auntie P just called. Her mother fell and broke her arm.
Me: Oh no! That’s awful. Poor little Grandma. Did she slip in the bathroom or something?
Ma: Well, Auntie says she and Grandma were standing by the balcony door and talking when a sudden gust of wind swept her out and dumped her on the floor.
Me (short pause): Ha ha ha ha hee hee hee hoo hoo!
Ma: Shut up. Idiot child.
I know. I’m headed for hell, right? Well, I was going there anyway. Might as well take the scenic route. Look, even I know that it’s not nice to laugh at tiny little old ladies who break their brittle bones. But if you knew my mom and Auntie P and could imagine them discussing this over the phone or even Auntie P’s reaction to seeing her mother get blown off her feet…!
I mean, when was the last time you actually heard of someone getting not just knocked down but swept out of the apartment by a random gust of wind? Come on! Who does that?
The problem with my family is that first they gave me a warped sense of humor and then they keep outdoing each other in trying to tickle it. And my straight face sucks. I’ve pretty much given up on visiting people at the hospital, for example, coz when someone from my family checks into the hospital, it’s a sure bet that they’re gonna do something hilarious like beg the doctor not to lance the enormous boil on their leg coz they were convinced they were going to die if it burst.
But, as I asked Ma, would it matter if I laughed at the unfortunate antics of people on the inside when God would know anyway? Coz it’s not like I went to the hospital and laughed and pointed at poor old Grandma on her bed. I like Grandma. She’s little and sweet and used to feed me all kinds of things that were very tasty and bad for me when I was a kid. You think I want to laugh at her?
Sigh. It’s not fair. Why can’t the wind sweep people I don’t like out the door? It would make life so much simpler.
