Tucker’s teacher recently informed me, in one of those impromptu after-school meetings that could go one way or another, and I always prefer one way over the other, “Tucker’s humor has surpassed his classmates. He catches my jokes when the other children don’t, and he’s become masterful with language.”
Dear Tricia of four years ago, who is blogging between speech therapy appointments and interpreting sign language for her son:
His first grade teacher said, “masterful with language.” She said humor. Sarcasm. Funny. Keep teaching him language and stories and even timing and expression. He’s about to make you laugh.
She added, “He has mastered sarcasm, and that’s a language all its own.”
That’s my boy.
“Tuck, I love how you make me laugh. That’s what I enjoy most in my friends: quick wit.”
“What is quick wit? Is it, like, smacking a cow’s butt?”
“It is exactly not that. But the words thing will get me every time.”
Stick with words, not so much smacking animals. Quick wit goes straight to my heart, every time.
(Masterful, she said.)