People have often asked me where I get my sense of humor. A lot of that credit goes to my parents.
My Dad, Len, was a hilarious man. He was funny and boisterous and the life of the party. Unfortunately, he died when I was 10, and he was just 37. He crammed quite a bit of funny in the years he was here.
My Mom, Bev, became much more outgoing after my Dad passed. “I had to,” she often told me. She had always been funny, but up until then, she had more of a dry sense of humor. As the years passed, though, she too became the proverbial Life of the Party.
I lost my Mom eight years ago today (the day I’m writing this). She died much too young, just short of 63. I miss her so much. But there was such a funny side to her that I believe is worth sharing.
Do you remember in 1979 when Skylab was falling? People were terrified that it would fall into a city and kill countless people. My Mom decided that the people in our neighborhood needed some levity about it. For one day, she donned my grandfather’s hardhat. And she wore it all day.
Even when we went out.
I remember riding in the car with her, her friend Zennie, and Zennie’s daughter (who was also my friend) Sandy. People kept asking my Mom what she was doing with a hardhat on.
“Didn’t you hear?” she’d ask. “Skylab is falling!”
Sure, some people probably thought she had lost it. But for the most part, she made people smile and even got a few guffaws.
One year, my Mom bought herself a cowboy hat. Okay, it wasn’t a “real” cowboy hat because hers was made of straw and probably came from K-Mart. But she loved it. When she put it on, she would adopt a funny swagger which she called her “mosey.”
“When I’ve got my cowboy hat on, I’ve gotta mosey,” she would say. This would just break my friends up. We thought it was hilarious.
No one else’s Mom would mosey, and to us, that was pretty cool.
Lest you think my Mom’s humor only involved headwear, let me set you straight. She could squeeze the funny out of nearly everything.
One summer, a close friend of Mom’s had back surgery and was stuck on bed rest for quite some time. He was bored out of his mind. So my Mom decided to step in.
She and her friends Zennie and Arlene decided to dress up in costumes and go down to cheer him up. They sewed a green jumpsuit. Combined with a wig dyed green with food coloring and a face covered in crème green eye shadow, my mother became The Incredible Hulk.
I’m so not kidding about this.
They stuffed the oversized jumpsuit with crumpled up newspapers. Zennie dressed like a sailor, and Arlene wore a drum majorette’s costume.
Yeah, there really wasn’t a theme involved here, but it was funny just the same.
When they were walking down the street to their friend’s house, an old woman smiled and said, “Oh, you all look so nice. What are you dressed up for?”
“Halloween,” Mom deadpanned.
It was August at the time.
They did, however, cheer up their friend even if they looked like lunatics in the process.
A couple of years before she passed, my Mom would call me and during the conversation say, “Guess what?” Thinking that she was about to tell me some news or gossip, I’d respond “What?”
“You’re a nut!” she’d say and laugh hysterically.
It drove me crazy.
And the worst part was that she kept catching me on it.
She’d let some time pass and just when I’d forget about it, she ask, “Guess what?”
I’d fall for it every single time.
My Mom’s laugh was absolutely infectious. I wish I could describe it accurately with words.
When something really tickled her, she would began laughing—almost like a giggle—then she start with a deeper “Ah ha ha ha ha!” Eventually, she’d begin crying from laughing so hard, and her head would fall forward like it was on a hinge. I used to imitate her, which would make her laugh all the more.
I miss her laughter, her great sense of humor, and, most of all, her.
But I’m so thankful that she passed all these gifts on to me.
Michele Wojciechowski, who, while she has never dressed as The Incredible Hulk, has done quite a few nutty things in her day, writes “Wojo’s World® from Baltimore.
She still owns her grandfather’s hardhat.