Month: December 2008

I know a disproportional number of Mikes. Not too many as my close personal friends, but everyone (almost) at work, at the gym, and in the store seems to be named Mike. I usually have a pretty hard time remembering people’s names, but it makes things a lot easier when all you have to remember is one name. I even have a Mike at work who’s last name is Jackson. I try not to moonwalk too much when he’s around.

So, if you run into a guy you don’t know and strike up a conversation, just call him Mike and watch how he lights up, in total disbelief, surprised that you knew his name.

Each year on the 13th of December Sweden celebrates Saint Lucia day. It’s usually celebrated by a procession and singing of Swedish Christmas carols the morning and heavy drinking at night. I used to be a diligent participant of both, but have in recent years only attended the more child friendly singing event.

For the second year in a row we’ve had a Lucia procession at our local IKEA with the Swedish school that our kids attend, so they can learn and enjoy some of the Swedish traditions that I grew up with. All people that are at least mildly familiar with this tradition know that the procession consists of: One Lucia wearing a crown of lights on her head and then a bunch of tärnor (girls dressed in white, just like the lucia but without the crown of lights), gigngerbread men, stjärngossar (directly translated as star boys, dressed in white with white cone hats), and elfs. And that’s it. There are most definitely no Candy Raccoons.

I feel like a bad father. See, my son, thinks he’s really funny. And to be brutally honest, most of the time, he’s not. I’m not really sure why. It could be his potty humor, or the fact he keeps making weird noises and expecting me to drop to the floor laughing. Usually, I just look at him, with an emotionless face, thinking: Is that all you’ve got?! And I feel bad, because I really want him to be funny, and it hurts me to see him fail so miserably.

I also don’t want to encourage him too much. At least not the unfunny, juvenile material of his repertoire. Once in a while however, something funny escapes him. We laugh. Sometimes even a lot. And knowing that he’d penetrated our hard exterior crust of coldheartedness, he fires off a cascade of backup jokes, that once again fall flat.

I admire his persistence.