Ice Cream Sundae

   My mom would always get on my dad's case for telling jokes that were not kid savvy. She believed children should be somewhat shielded from this side of life until a certain age. The nano second I became a tween, she turned on some switch and suddenly, she turned into an inappropriate story and joke telling monster (like my father).

    My parents friends the Chakis owned a cottage in Huntsville Ontario, and we were invited up countless times. The Chakis are a couple my parents played volleyball and drinking with, and they had two sons. Their eldest was my sisters age, and their youngest Treve was one year my senior. They had a Nintendo avec games at the cottage to go with the lake and stars, so I was in heaven.

    One night the youth were at the table playing cards, and I assume it being past dinner my mother was mostly likely a few glasses into the night. I'm not saying my parents are alcoholics (not once have they been to a meeting) they just enjoy letting loose at the appropriate times. Much like my parents, I enjoy leisure drinking as well.

    At the cottage, drinking starts usually around three on a weekday and noon on a weekend. One year my dad was so into his leisure activity, that he didn't notice the front of his running shoe melting because he was too close to the fire (it's these memories I cherish).

    So, my mother well past Wine O Clock sat down and joined the four of us at the table. She was feeling spirited (literally) and decided to tell us a joke (anytime at this age my mother sat down to do anything while I was in the company of non family members, especially after wine I was petrified)

    Taking a side note here for a moment (it's what I do best) my mom's shenanigans were not localized to alcohol or events. Her performing was a regular thing, much to the delight of grocery store clerks, doctors, dentists, receptionists and teachers all across my region. She was not on a mission to embarrass me, I know this. She is just who she is, an entertainer.

    Now that I am an adult (my drivers licence indicates at least) I get my mom. I get her because in many ways I am her. If she hadn't put on such a spectacle when I was growing up, I would never have crawled out of my shell. I was always worried other people may thing I am not normal if I let loose, my mom taught me, I'm not normal, and who cares what they say.

    She is OK with herself, and is indeed an entertainer. When you add alcohol to her however, you increase said entertainment value, and remove a filter. My mom actually has one (my father does not) and it's usually so handy. Again, after a few bevvies, it's gone. 

    Although my mom has missed the punch line on a few jokes, and tends to also get halfway through a joke an forget the punch line, this time she got it bang on. Seating herself down, she placed her wine glass on the table, and told us all she had a joke.

    It's a good one when she tells it, my mother is animated, silly, and gets right into character. No one can tell this joke like my mom. It's hilarious now, but when your a tween who wishes their parents (no matter how much love they have given) would go away, because they are embarrassing, it's downright painful. Tweens’ can barely admit to having parents on a good day.

    With that my mom jumps into character (actually there are two, she does both), and tells this joke:

    A young boy walks into a Ice Cream Shop, about eight years old, dressed up in a little boy's cowboy costume. He wearing a cowboy hat, has spurs on his boots, a bandana around his neck and a holster on his hips holding two toy guns. The boy walks up to the counter, pulls out his guns and points them at the lady. He says, “give me a hot fudge sundae”.

    The woman smiles, and says she will, then asking him “would you like sprinkles on that?”

    “Give me some sprinkles” he says again withdrawing his guns.

    “OK”, says the lady, “would you like cherries on that?

    “Give me some cherries” he answers, guns drawn.

    “Would you like nuts on your sundae” the woman inquires.
   
    “Give me some nuts” the boy replies.

    “Would you like your nuts crushed?” the lady asks.

     The boy pulls his guns out a final time and says “you want your tits blown off?!”

    By the end of her joke I was red faced and embarrassed but no one would have noticed since everyone had burst out laughing. Treve almost fell off his chair, and tears streamed down his face. Let's be real here, if you say tits to a thirteen year old boy you will get laughs (at least in the 90's you did). It's like saying the word poop to grade ones, you are guaranteed a laugh (but should you really be “going there” at all?)

    The story of-course, does not end there. Cat Chakis, Treve's mom, was none too impressed with this joke her son was now aware of, not her eldest, her youngest. It was of no help then, that weeks after this trip when school had started back up, he her concerns were verified.

    Cat was making her way home from grocery shopping on what I imagine to be a warm sunny fall day. When she drove past Treve's grade school which was around the corner from their house, she came face to face reality with what it means to have my mom as a friend (outside of the love, care, entertainment and support mind you).  Out in the yard, she could see her son, and he was surrounded by a group of boys. He was talking, and they were all listening.

    Then suddenly, she saw her sweet shy little angel,  raise his hands up like he was holding two (toy) guns, and watched as the group around him burst out laughing. As she was driving down her street, she says she openly and out loud said to herself, “I'm gonna fucking kill Kim Anderson.”