Comedy, Kid Style

I teach Seth's primary class at church. It is full of seven-year-old personalities. Personalities who say funny things. Like when during the sharing time lesson on building families, the primary president asked, "What are some things that can tear families apart?" one of them said to me, in all seriousness, "Tornadoes. And Vampires."

Consider yourselves warned.

My own seven-year-old is finding it increasingly impossible to sit through an entire meal. I thought he'd grow out of it, but now that his siblings are old enough to form an appreciative audience, the mealtime antics have grown impressively Oscar-worthy. It doesn't help that directly opposite of our dining room table is a closet with full-length mirrored doors in which to observe himself.
His routine usually goes something like this:
(Bite, chew swallow)
"Hey Alice! (jumps out of seat and does the Ickey Shuffle) Look at this! Dun-duh dun-duh!" (Ends dance with a flourish)
Me: "Sit down. Eat."
Him: "Kay."
Five seconds pass. Chew. Swallow. Grotesque face forms. Muscles flex. He begins to imagine himself changing into the Incredible Hulk. There is growling and grimacing. He jumps out of his seat.
When he is out of his seat he notices himself in the mirror. Noticing himself in the mirror is always precursory to shaking some booty.
Insert laugh track by siblings. Siblings cannot allow one booty to be shaken alone, so they join in.
Me: (Trying not to laugh) "Sit down. Eat."
Him: "Kay." (Under his breath he asks if his audience saw him shake his bum.)
Alice gasps, and reports that Seth said bum.
Seth: "S'okay, I didn't say poop or fart at the dinner table . . . we only can't say poop or fart at the dinner table!"
New rules are made.
Seth falls off chair to express exasperation at new rules.

Saturday Night Live would do well to send a scout to our house at mealtime. Only the kiddos could never actually be on SNL, because I think they say poop, fart and bum on that show.