I get my silly sense of humour from both my parents; however the jokes that other people find funny are from my father’s side, while the damp squibs are directly from my mum.

Case in point:

Mom and I are in the kitchen; she’s making chocolates truffles while I’m making cold coffee. She is struggling to get the chocolate to seize, so that she can mould it. After adding a lot of port wine, she is a little concerned about the flavour:

Mom: “Here, taste this. What do you think?”
Me: “It’s nice.”
*Rookie mistake on my part. “Nice” is my mother’s politest curse word. She loathes the word.*
Mom: “Only nice? What’s wrong with it?”
Me: *rolls eyes* “The chocolate flavour. It is too dark.”
Mom: “Don’t be so racist!” *dissolves into giggles*


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