How I entertain my husband

The road was long. It was getting late. We couldn't let the kids fall asleep just yet, otherwise bedtime at home would be a nightmare. We'd played "Eye-spy" till our eyeballs were burning. The guessing game had covered every conceivable noun in the Webster dictionary. We were at a loss.

I decided that telling jokes would be a worthwhile endeavour. So I started.

I tried the Viper joke. AirBear was terrified - she had her hands over her ears for the greater part of the joke. And I had to still explain the punch line. The mother of the year swallowed his laughter.

I tried the Rabbit joke AFTER I explained what "revitalise" and "permanent" mean. Blank looks from the back seat. More stifled laughter from the driver.

The white horse named Eric joke - no effect. The frog and the chicken joke- absolutely no reaction. The little red man joke (which I went to great pangs to simplify) also needed further explanation.

In the driver's seat the tears were rolling down his cheeks. He took great pleasure in my failed comedy. At this point I had had enough. "Fine," I sulked, "You tell them a joke."

His offer was "Spooketti - a ghost's favourite food". The children erupted with giggles.

Hmph! I could out do that! "What's a sea monster's favourite food?" I interrupted the laughter. "Fish and ships!"

Silence.

A cricket chirruped.

Damn!

The mother of the year drove us home with a smug look on his face. Jerk!