A Journal of Sorts

Thursday, 25 March 1999

How do you spell kids?

I was really impressed with Jason today. Although Daniel has taken to computers like a duck to water, Jason hasn't. He has his own computer, but for the most part, it is there to gather dust. I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that he can't read well. He's in the seventh grade, now, but in special ed classes. Until a couple of years ago, he couldn't read or write at all; now he is probably reading on a 3rd or 4th grade level and can print, but not write.

Today, Jason came into the kitchen and asked me how to spell the word kids. Then he went back into his room. About 15 minutes later, he hollered at me to please come in. (Did I tell you he could yell again?) When I went in there, his computer screen showed that he was in the middle of a download. Boy, was I ever impressed with him.

He had managed to figure out how to log on to the Internet, get to a particular web site (that he saw advertised on television) and tried to play a game. It told him that he needed ShockWave, so he started a download. Then he got worried about what he was doing and called me in for an explanation.

Impressed the snot out of me. I set up his dialer and installed a browser for him sometime last year. Chances are, I even showed him how to operate it, but I sure don't remember him seeming interested. I'll bet he learns a lot just being around the rest of us. I'm not the only junkie in the family, Daniel and Tom both qualify as well. I was so bursting with pride over it all that I called Ed (his dad) at work just to share the excitement.

People watching has always been one of my very favorite ways to pass the time. No matter where we are or what we are doing, if there are other people around, I'm paying attention, often (gasp) eavesdropping on their conversations.

Especially, I like watching and listening to kids. Back before I decided that I don't like kids after all, I sought out their company. When I didn't have a gaggle of cub scouts following me around, I'd recruit a herd of them from my own family.

Some of the most entertaining times have been out camping with my two sons and three grandsons. Boys will be boys, I suppose, and telling nasty jokes is one of the things they do best. Today I was reminded of a really funny joke-telling that I overheard one night from their campfire.

Jason, my son, was telling the joke to Tony, my grandson. They were both about ten or eleven years old at the time. Although, at the time, the joke was told with much elaboration, here's the condensed version:

It was BB King's birthday and his girlfriend, as a surprise gift for him, had a BB tattoo put on her fanny, with one B on the left cheek and the other B on the right cheek. When he came home that evening, the girlfriend made a big production of showing him the tattoo -- this part was described in great length in the original telling. She turned her backside to him, pulled her panties down, bent way over, and said ,"look, honey."

(punch line) BB looked at it for awhile then asked her, "Who is BOB?" (end of joke)

Here's where the funny part came in. Tony looked really, really puzzled for quite some time and he finally said, "I don't get it." Jason looked at him like he was from mars or something, then said with gestures for emphasis, "It's B CRACK B. Get it?" Tony looked quite thoughtful for a good while and finally he said, "But that's BIB!". Jason just looked disgusted and walked away shaking his head.