My Daughter's First Joke 3/30

My Daughters First Joke


we are meeting
as we do
in the fall like we do
in our small home there
are at least thirty people here
family
that’s how we roll
she is four
I am tumbleweed bouncing
from small room to small room
it doesn’t matter
every belly will be filled
every drink as well
my daughter is stalking my shadow
she is four and confident
she is telling me something
“Mom, I have a joke and it’s funny.”
I tell her I know
she stares daggers
which translates
to
“You say that all the time.”
there is music and chatter
spades and uno
there are folks eating dinner
and eating dessert
it’s family
this is what we do

she stands
four years old in her pretty dress
hands on her hip she clears throat no one
can hear her because no one is listening
she decides to wear her big girl voice
“ I have a joke, and it is funny.”
everyone pauses for the cause
some forks in mid air
a Boston derailed
she smiles speaks only
when she has everyone’s attention
“what has a hole and you screw it?”

you could hear the breath stilling
in the chests of every person in the room
I become petrified tree
stuck in spot hand fluttering to throat
my brother
bursts into laughter
my mother eyeball him to the kitchen
the younger children try to guess
the adults are in a state of terror
I exchange feverous eyes with
my now wasband

“what is it? come on, guess.
what has a hole and you screw it?”

no one guesses
no one breathes
no one moves
my brother is giggles away
from hyperventilating in the kitchen

“a light bulb!”

the relief flowed through the room
held breath released laughter ensued
my tree trunk legs go wobble
I plant myself in the nearest chair
she curtseys
then flounces
and that’s really the only word for it
stands in front of me striking a b-boy stance
“I told you it was funny”

I scoop her in my arms
make a promise in my head
to teach my baby how to tell a joke
that doesn’t cause mental heart attacks
we laugh together
my baby told her first joke
and after the trauma
it was pretty damn funny

a note to would be wanna be superheroes

I get it. I mean we all have had those moments when we imagine ourselves hero and sometimes dare I say superhero. In fantasy world it’s great! We have super speed, we can pick shit up that’s ridiculously heavy and toss it like so much salad, but in reality world, we know this is not the case. I mean, we do know this? Don’t we?

Every year in my classroom I do a unit on superheroes. We discuss character traits, strengths, weakness and the difference between hero and superhero. We acknowledge the heroes in our lives our communities. Firefighters, police officers, the neighborhood crack head that doesn’t let anyone fuck with you. Citizens who protect and serve not looking for praise or celebrity. Who also go through training and know exactly how to carry out their jobs without endangering themselves or other, possibly with the exception of the crack head.

So like, you know how in pretend land, the hero, because in pretend land unless you have a super power like flying, melting shit with your eyes or sense tingling you were a hero or a vigilante. Vigilantes are those dudes or chicks that take shit into their own hands when no one asked them too. clearing throat

ANY WHO, in pretend land have you ever seen, oh I don’t know, Spiderman or Batman do an interview on, SAY, Good Morning America or the Today show? No, No you don’t! And do you know why? Because it’s a fucking secret! Yes they run around in garish costumes with shiny gadgets but that shit is on the low, because just like there are those guys that wanna do good there are those who have no problem running a train on good. So when you go on television and tell people how you used to do this at your last job but folks felt some kind of way, you are telling folks who you are. The point of a secret identity is…it’s supposed to stay secret??? Keep up!!

So in for real world American’s are slipping further and further from reality so I can see how you can mix up pretend and real world from time to time. But in the real world when you get shot no stunt real life dude guy takes the bullet for you. And if you don’t have super powers you are not a super hero. Movies aren’t real and neither is television, sometimes even the news. I know (rubbing your back), it is it’s a hard pill to swallow and I really hope you don’t end up dead because you went public like a dumb ass.

In teaching my Superhero Unit (hands on hips, profile looking fly) what happens is that when students have to take into account character, and that you don’t help people for fame or glory, that how knowing the right thing to do is hard many of them ask to create a villain. We talk about how easy it is to be the villain. No accountability is appealing to them; not having to consider the impact on others is a draw to the darker side. I don’t let them take the easy out in my classroom, but there are plenty of folks who take the easy out in this world. How else does a grown man stab a teenage boy to death in a crowded place over a cell phone?

I think it’s noble to wanna help folks but if you are helping not realizing the danger you are putting yourself in a reality check may be in order….just saying

Worst Case Scenario #2

#2 what to do when you hear a woman being raped

you wake with a start
disoriented you stagger to you babies room
thinking something is wrong
when you find them sleeping soundly
you focus on what you are hearing
you go back to your room
remove the butcher knife from under your pillow
and slowly creep towards your back door
you peep through the peep hole
see the man slap the woman
he tells her to shut the fuck up
the calendar on the wall tells you it’s Sunday
you watch him tear her dress
hold her down and yank at her underwear
you see him lower his pants
cover her mouth and he begins the violation
you hesitate
then call 911
you whisper what you see
beg them to leave you anonymous
they say they will
you don’t believe
you go back to the peep hole
you want to save her
you know you can’t
you pray the babies can’t hear
you move to the kitchen window
lift the blinds peek out and see the officer
you hear a scream
the officer talks into his shoulder
places one hand on his gun
you run to the peep hole
you watch the man pull up his pants
and spit on the woman
you run back towards the kitchen you see the officer
gun drawn other hand held in a stop motion
you hear the guy explain that it was nothing
you see the woman stagger out
she scream she was raped
you see the officer turn the guy around
place handcuffs on his wrist and as he looks up
the officer sees you
you stare at each other
he nods
you panic
the ambulance comes
they are all leaving
you breathe for what feels like
the first time in an hour
you do the mother thing
make breakfast
play games
talk baby talk
your head is a hamster wheel
you put the babies in their play pen
put on their favorite movie
the little mermaid
she wants to be human
and for some strange reason
you think that is the saddest thing you’ve ever heard
you shield your tears from your babies
listen to them sing a part of your world
even the one that can’t talk
and you sob
there is a knock at the door
you tense
the babies sing
you peep through the peep hole
you realize
you spend a lot of time
peering through peepholes
there is a man
the police officer from earlier
now in plain clothes
you are grateful for the absence of uniform
you open the door leaving the slide bolt in place
he hands you his card
thanks you for calling in the assault
tells you that he spoke to all of your neighbors
were at home dressed to got to church
and none of them even thought about calling
you are screaming inside your chest
he tells you
you are alone
you believe
he tells you that if you need anything
call the number on the card and ask fo him
you nod dumbly
he tells you he will watch out for you
a tear slides across your cheek
he hears the babies
tells you not to worry
you worry
when you close the door you dissolve
your babies stop singing
they watch you fold
they feel it
everybody cries
Ariel sings