2018-04-11 - 1:37 p.m.
When I was in college, in a Quantitative Analysis class, the Professor was a Navy Buff, a liker of seafaring vessels. One day he announced in class that extra credit goes to the first person who could correctly define the word "Frigate". I was first to raise my hand, so he called on me. He said "Can you define the word "Frigate"?" I said "Yes! It's when you just don't care anymore." I slay me.
Another time, in my Medical Terminology class, I had an overall average of 108. Words are my playground and Medical terminology was a super easy A for me. So I could afford to spare a point for a joke every now and then. I thought it was for my professor's eyes only, but one day she made this announcement: "Last night I was tired. I didn't feel like grading papers. But this one student's quiz answer made it all worth while. Then she held up my paper and read the question: Define "Vulva". Answer: A very expensive car."
I blushed. My red face gave me away.
I don't know why I keep talking about humor and the lack thereof lately. Humor is relative. Except my ex-husband's humor. His humor is consistently unfunny.
And that's kind of funny.