Of daddies and daughters

It's been said by some people that, on occasion, yours truly will enjoy — but only slightly, of course — being the center of attention.

Gasp! I know, it's shocking.

Most people who know me know that I'm timid, demure and that it takes some coaxing for me to come out of my shell.

Or maybe I'm the exact opposite ... tomatos, tomahtos!

But one thing is for sure, I love to be the one making people laugh or even (and most often) making myself laugh — (I totally crack myself up all the time. I'm great company for myself. Is that sad and pathetic? Proly).

So it's sometimes hard for me when my kid and my husband form their own little comedy duo. They love to giggle over general silliness.



Now, don't get me wrong, I enjoy general silliness too. But sometimes the fart jokes are a little played out. And I do find myself less than entertained when they speak in their own made-up language, which uses "poopy" as the derivative for every word.

Once they realize that I'm not playing along, I become the stodgy, straight man to their kindergarten antics.

Then I feel old and mom-like knowing that no matter what I saw or how I react, one of them will say the magic word, "poopy," and they both will dissolve into a puddle of teary-eyed giggles.

My only defense is to leave them to enjoy their scatological revelry and retreat to the basement ... and my guitar.

At least when I'm alone, I can always be the center of attention.