Laugh, kookaburra, laugh, kookaburra, gay your life must be! Oh the memories of singing that song sooo many times in my childhood. Over and over again, much like the memories of my dad’s dreadful jokes. I remember thinking how could anyone of sound mind publish such awful things (I don’t however remember thinking how could anyone write them in the first place!). Dad always expected us to find them the height of entertainment and I guess he wore us down, or got to us in a weak moment because laugh we did. We giggled at nonsense poetry, snickered and snorted when he read and re-organised both plot and endings in picture books (I was confused for years) and guffawed at his irreverant and often politically incorrect takes on our childhood adventure stories. Now, I’d like to sneak into the garden to read, but because I was hopeless at keeping quiet in the funny bits, I’d be found giggling in the bushes and promptly returned to whatever chores I’d skived away from. I’m still hopeless at keeping quiet in the funny bits which is why I don’t take Janet Evanovich to read on public transport. Her descriptions of Bob the dog regurgitating socks or Lula’s lurid close fitting lycra outfits and their forays into funeral viewings of the recently deceased bring out the laugh in me. Loud and probably embarrasing, but rewarding. It’s fun, remembering reading and laughing as a kid. Has my humour reading age matured along with my actual age? Not sure, but I think everyone needs a good laugh and in fact the kid in me insists on it! Loads to choose from, I’ll probably run out of time but thanks Dad, thanks for reading to me and thanks, thanks for the laughs.
So what brings out the laugh in you? Join our twitter conversation on Tuesday 28th February, 8pm AEST til 10pm AWST. Use #NYR12.