He's also not overly serious or somber, definitely sees the humor in things, as appropriate for his age. But for young children, slapstick is the natural limit of comedy. A flatulent sound, for example, is just plain objectively funny, as most any toddler can see, and it seems to remain so until (overly?) society-minded mothers scold this knowledge out of them. (I leave all judgments about that entirely to the reader.)
Other kinds of humor, jokes and situational comedy, require a lot more intellectual development. It makes sense. Humor is about the unexpected, irregular, unusual, and when your experience is limited, you don't know what qualifies. Why can't someone row a canoe down an asphalt street? Why shouldn't an octopus sort the mail?
At home we have a shoehorn which hangs from a table-cart that stands by the front door, for keys, purses, and the like. Ender loves to take the shoehorn and play with it, after which the shoehorn eagerly engages us all in an epic game of hide-and-seek. This is just the state we were in recently; the shoehorn had been AWOL for at least a week, even after a fairly thorough search of our home.
During such a state, while I'm putting on my shoes I would jokingly chide my son, "Gee, this would sure be a lot easier if I had my shoehorn! Do you know where is the shoehorn, Ender?" A week ago I added a new angle: "Did you eat it?" He answered simply, "No," and we continued getting dressed to go out on the playground.
But Ender wasn't finished with it. A minute or so later, after he was dressed and we were heading out the door, he realized — that was pretty funny! Ender eating a shoehorn, indeed! He had made "an unexpected integration" that is humor, at which point he began to repeat saying "Did you eat it?" and laughing. For about 10 minutes this continued, long after we were on the playground.
These are the moments that fill a parent's heart with joy and pride.
That's the end of my story, but it has an epilogue. After the event I told this to several people, my parents included. A few days later, my dear mother sent us this creative little poem. (Posted with permission.) Thanks, Mom!
By Rosalyn Robertson
Who ate the shoe horn?
I’d really like to know.
This question continues to haunt me
No matter where I go.
Mr. White Bear just sits and smiles
I really think he knows something,
But won’t tell us for a while.
Did the shoe horn get on Ender’s scooter?
And take it for a ride?
Stuffed monkey wouldn’t take it –
He has too much pride.
The next time I go to the park
I’ll ask a duck or two,
“Have you seen the shoe horn?”
If only someone knew.
I’ll go to the library to take a look
Do you think someone put it in a book?
I can’t find it anywhere,
But I’ll just keep looking
Maybe it will appear one day
When Tatyana is cooking.
(Tatyana is Ender's wonderful mommy.)
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