Medicine for the soul

My family invented the word dysfunctional.  You have no idea what my childhood was like and it’s a wonder I survived with my sanity.  Having said all that, one of the reasons I did survive with my sanity is because my parents are funny.  I don’t mean they need their own comedy show, just that even in the blackest moments they can say something ready sarcastic that just makes me laugh and it’s medicine for my soul.

Even now, when my relationship with my Mum is somewhat strained, we still share humour.  It’s a very northern, dry, sarky humour which usually involves swearing, and that not even all British people understand, but it gets me through the day.

I’ll give you some examples:  when I was horrendously ill with M.E. I weighed under 6 stones (80lbs) and just being touched was painful.  I was crying one day and my Mum gave me a tight hug.
Me: ‘I can’t breathe Mother’
Mum: ‘At least you’re being quiet, that bloody wailing was getting on my nerves’
Me: ‘So you’re basically trying to kill me to shut me up?’
Mum: ‘Is it that obvious?’
Me: ‘Where’s Ester Rantzen’s number, I’m reporting you to Child Line’
Mum: ‘Will Ester Rantzen cuddle you when you’re upset?  Noooo!’
Me: ‘Well at least she won’t try to murder me’
Mum: ‘You’re so bloody ungrateful’ 😉

My parents do the Lotto – Euromillions on a Friday and the UK Lotto on a Saturday.  This is Sunday morning’s conversation:
Me: ‘Did you win the lotto?’
Mum: ‘Oh, we haven’t checked it yet, pass us the tickets’
Me: ‘OMG we could be multi millionaires and we don’t even know it’
Dad: ‘What’s this “we” business.  You’re not getting any of it’
Mum checks the tickets: ‘I’ve got one poxy number’
Me: ‘What bloody use are you?  I wasn’t born to be poor.  I need parents who can keep me in the manner to which I’d love to become accustomed.  I wonder if it’s too late for me to be adopted?’
Mum: ‘Your Dad and I have been asking the same question for the past 30 years’ 😉

When I leave their apartment, my Dad will shout after me: ‘Be good!’
Me: ‘I’d love the opportunity to be bad but I’m too bloody exhausted!’

Us discussing Dad’s dementia and whether he should be driving:
Dad: ‘I agree, going through a red light isn’t the best’
Me: ‘Yeah, it is pretty dangerous.  You could kill someone’
Dad: ‘Or damage the car and it’s only 12 months old.  Would that be covered under warranty?’
Me: ‘What?  The killing someone or the dent in your bonnet?’
Dad: ‘The dent obviously, even I know you can’t claim back on your insurance for running someone over stupid’ 😉

In every day life I come across some seriously miserable people.  My next door neighbours are two of the most miserable gits on the planet despite the fact they have a wonderful life, and my elderly neighbour on the other side is one of life’s ‘glass half empty people.’  I went to visit her on Sunday afternoon.
Mary: ‘Oh it’s lovely to see you, it’s been a long, quiet day’
Me, feeling sorry for her: ‘Have you not seen anyone today then?’
Mary: ‘No’
Then a bit later on in the conversation she mentions her daughter & her husband, who live down south.
Me: ‘Oh, so you’ve seen them recently then?’
Mary: ‘Yes, they’ve been staying with me this weekend’
Me: ‘When did they go back?’
Mary: ‘About 10 o’clock this morning’

I really struggle to get my head around miserable, negative people.  Obviously there are days when I can’t see the positive in anything, which is normal and understandable, but the majority of the time I can always find something to smile about, even if it’s just telling Bertie he’s gassing me with his smelly farts and that if he doesn’t stop pumping I’m sending him back to the Rehoming Centre 😉  And I’m always pleasant, no matter how much pain I’m in, how little sleep I’ve had, how nauseous I feel or how exhausted I am.  I always take the time to smile and say hello to anyone I meet, even if the very last thing on earth I feel like doing is making small talk.  However, there are some people who live in my village who, if they were to smile, their bloody skin would crack and who grunt “morning” at me with their heads down.  And one of my postmen has a face like a slapped arse.  What sort of a way to live is that?  Grumpy bastards.

A smile costs nothing and being able to make someone laugh is one of life’s greatest gifts.  My parents may have fucked with my head as a child to such an extent I needed medication and 2 years of therapy to get over it, but I will be forever grateful that they also made me laugh until my sides ached.  If you have people in your life that light you up with laughter be grateful.


3 thoughts on “Medicine for the soul

  1. Jill

    I loved the northern sarcasm stories you told. I was brought up with the exact same thing. My problem was as I travelled (very sadly) further south this sense of humour I slowly realised was distinct to the North. Oh! the southerners I’ve insulted (as far as they are concerned) by passing a sarcastic comment. In the end it was only friends I’d known for a few years who had gotten used to me that I felt free to comment on. As I only went back North once a year at Christmas I found that I was out of practise. My brother would come over and completely slate me as I wasn’t fast enough to get my own comments in first. Shameful!
    I still upset people in the south now. I don’t know if it’s a Yorkshire thing or a fully Northern one but if I suddenly have to pass comment on how well someone did or how their new hairdo, boots,
    or whatever is are, I say ‘yeah, that’s alright’. The other person’s face falls. Now where I’m from ‘alright’ is the highest accolade you can give. It’s even enforced by the more enthusiastic way it’s said. If I’d used brilliant, fantastic, wonderful etc instead when I’m in Yorkshire it would have been taken as nasty over sarcastic comment and I’d have been thought of as a right cow.
    Still I panic not. It’s not my fault southerners are slow on the uptake. 🙂


    1. Jak Post author

      LOL! Sarkiness is definitely a northern thing and southerners often don’t really get it. Americans don’t get northern humour at ALL. However, Australians do and that’s why I like them 😉 Aussies can be sarky as all hell! x



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