Relative Hilarity

I wonder if there has ever been an academic study that shows that people who are related find the same things funny. I have spent the last two days laughing with my cousin Mary over all the same things.

Our morning started earnestly as Mary came out in my garden and helped me do the daily harvest. We packed some things up to take to my parents and promptly left them on the counter and drove up to my parents new house, down the street from the farm. My mother greeted us with distress as she could not get her TV or Netflix working. While Mary visited with my father, I fixed my mother’s TV, gaining many “best daughter points.”

My mother left to go to play bridge and Mary and I took my father out to lunch at a new restaurant in Danville. Having Mary around my parents put everyone on good behavior. We pulled into the restaurant and despite the very full parking lot I got the number 1 parking spot. This is not an usual occurrence, which Carter is always furious about my never ending luck when it comes to parking.

After lunch my Dad needed us to stop at his new pharmacy. Since his walking isn’t great Mary got out of the car and helped him into the store, which has an old fashioned lunch counter in the pharmacy. As my Dad conversed with the lady there Mary looked around.

We went back to my parents and Mary found four painting’s of my mother’s she wanted to buy so I sold them to her, getting me even more, “best daughter points.” We packed up the car said goodbye to my Dad and made a stop to visit my Aunt Janie Leigh. After those hours visiting we meandered our way home.

Once all the old folk visiting was done Mary asked me if I knew what the “Beaver Bots” were. Not wanting to suggest it was some mechanical sex toy I confessed I had not idea what she was talking about. She went on to say she saw a schedule for the “Beaver bots” in the pharmacy a few hours before, but had not idea what that was.

Not knowing exactly I told her to Google beaver bots, Danville because now I was really curious what it was that would be advertised in a pharmacy. Turns out is was not Beaver at all, but the Otter Bots, a new minor league baseball team. In Mary’s defense Beavers and otters could be confused.

We got ourselves into hysterics about how anyone could come up with such a crazy name, be it Beaver or otter connected with bots.

We told Russ about this at dinner tonight and Beaver bots quickly morphed into Beaver butts and Beavers and Butts and then we had devolved into thirteen year old boys and fart jokes. If someone not related came into the conversation half way through I am sure they would not find the same things funny that we did. I would just love to know if humor is genetic.

It has been so much fun to have Mary here and our laughter filled visit will sadly end tomorrow morning. Just in time for me to take my mother for eye surgery. Don’t I already have enough “best daughter points?”