Or at least he thinks so. It must be the funniest joke in the world, because why else would he use it 4 or 500 times a day? Are you ready to hear it? Ok, here it goes:
“No, you are!”
Yes! Ha ha. Get’s me every time.
This joke can be used in a variety of situations. For instance:
“Asher, are you poopy?”
“No, you are!”
“Asher, are you done eating?”
“No, you are!”
Oh the fun never stops. “No, you are” is always accompanied by this wild eyed grin and devilish laugh which, unfortunately, is fairly contagious, causing me to occasionally grin, something that only reassures Asher that this is, in fact, the funniest joke in the world.
And the great thing about this joke is that it can be used in a variety of situations and can be adapted, depending on the question. For instance
“Asher, you need to get your shoes on.”
“No, you do!”
Ah, comic gold.
In addition to this, Asher has developed the habit of changing the lyrics of songs. Apparently, this is a genetic condition, because I know for a fact that it afflicts Asher’s father, grandfather and great grandfather. It appears to be passed down through the male side of the family.
Asher’s grandfather’s manifestation seems to come out mainly in songs about women with big feet and unsuitable uses of old protest songs.
My current condition compels me to make up randy lyrics to kids songs. I’m sure there’s an easy psychological explanation for this. I sing the lyrics to myself, mainly because I can’t get the tunes out of my head and feel like I at least ought to upgrade the lyrical content.
Most of the lyrics are not acceptable for public consumption. For instance, I have a version of the Thomas the Train theme song that involves some inappropriate (ahem) “hook-ups” between several of the trains.
I’m sure that’s not healthy. But at least you know, why Thomas’ little plastic face is always smiling.
Anyway, Asher’s affliction seems to manifest itself in the universal boyhood humor of bodily functions.
He apparently told my wife a couple of days ago that when we were at church practicing the songs we would lead on Sunday, that we sang the following:
“I am a friend of God, he burps for me!”
I can assure you those are not the lyrics we practiced.
His sister recently got the movie Annie for her birthday and it has become a regular in the car DVD rotation. Asher has adapted the chorus to read:
“Tomorrow! Tomorrow! I’m going to give your bottom a spanking! It’s only a day away!”
Another recent addition comes from the movie Kung Fu Panda. He has taken to singing the hopefully not prescient:
“Everybody was poo-poo fighting!”
My big concern here is that he’s only 3. If he’s already poo poo fighting at 3, I can only imagine where this is going to end up by the time he’s 6. This could lead to some pretty awkward phone calls from his kindergarten teacher.
“Hello, I have a concern about Asher. Whenever we sing ‘the Farmer in the Dell’ in class, Asher sings “The Farmer sure does smell, the farmer sure does smell. Hi ho and plug your nose the farmer sure does smell!”
“Yes, well, you see, he’s got a genetic condition, perhaps we can get him an IEP.”
No, I can’t see that conversation going well. But I do know one for thing for sure, if the teacher tells me that I have to do something about this “problem,” I know exactly what to say to her:
“No, you do!”