I don’t know, maybe I should think twice, or three times before I go on one of my intended-to-be-funny-but-maybe-are-just-mean rants about strangers.

“In my family, cynicism ruled. Sarcasm was a crucial nutrient for our thickening skin. There was a very fine line between cutting humor and just old fashioned cruelty, but regardless of the line, we were expected to laugh at whatever was tossed at us. It wasn’t until I left home and spent time with other families that I came to understand that not everyone flung zingers at the dinner table while they drained the Rémy Martin bottle. Not everyone stopped an entire conversation to laugh at someone who mispronounced a word. Other families just had nice dinners with benign small talk. Of course, my family made fun of those families when they were out of sight, because my family had a more evolved intelligence and sense of humor.”

How funny that you mentioned this, because my sister and I were just talking the other day about how our family was like this, and then here comes your blog post.
That’s another reason no one in my family farts (in front ofeach other, anyway). Dh’s family does so in the most excessive manner possible, and he says I’M the weird one for not. But I tell him that coming from a family that would ridicule you to the point of tears for something like that, it’s better for me to just excuse myself from the room……………

We are firm believers in Better Parenting Through Sarcasm around here. We tread the line between being funny and being mean pretty carefully, and try to avoid being harsh or overly critical, especially to or around the kids. Sometimes I wish I was a nicer person, but when it comes right down to it, I treasure my dry, wry sense of humor more than I treasure the idea of being ‘nice.’