Wally is a Punny Clown

At a clown alley meeting this week, Wally brought his brain prop with him and was messing around. I was cracking up!

Holy Miscommunication Batman!

We have just arrived at a party. "Why is that clown so early, Mom?", I overhear. We're maybe 10 minutes early. That gives us set-up time. The Husband asks the family where he should set up; dad shows us where and the Husband shows the birthday boy that his red nose isn't real so he stops crying.
Then mom comes out. "What's your name?"
"The Husband."
"What about (insert Mexican friend clown name here)?"
"I'm his substitute," the Husband replies.
"What are you talking about?" she asks.
"He called me on Thursday. He said he needed me to do this party for him because he couldn't do it, he had talked to you about me coming in his stead." This is standard procedure for us. We've done this at least 3 times.
Apparently the Husband's buddy did NOT tell them someone else was coming. We'll see what happens.

Update: I have no memory of what happened.

Kazoo

The Husband is rearranging his trunk of clown equipment (stuffing in the prizes!) when the Son picks the bright red kazoo off the floor. He sticks it in his mouth and proceeds to be the musical prodigy that he is (WHO YOU CALLIN' BIASED?!). The Husband is completely astonished. "He can work that kazoo!"
"Why, can't you?" I ask.
"NO!" the Husband exclaims.
Holding in giggles, I request to try the kazoo. The Son promptly hands it to me and I try it out. It works fine.
"Try blowing in a different way," I suggest.
The second attempt is not fruitful. The Husband laughs and says, "I can't do it!"
We all laugh together. The man who can make Buzz Lightyear out of balloons is incapable of playing the kazoo.

Ringling Bros 2012

We went to the circus last night with one of the Husband's clown alleys. The Husband loved the clowns, the Son loved the horses and elephants, and I loved the clash between Bonkers and the Crazy Conspiracy Theorist. Yes, those are 2 of the clowns who came with us and no Bonkers isn't actually bonkers...but yes Crazy Conspiracy Theorist actually is a crazy conspiracy theorist.
At intermission, Bonkers bought a pastel latex clown wig to please his daughter. Of course, he put it on his head and started babbling about how cool it is that he finally has hair again (he's a bald clown, how could he resist that line?). The Crazy Conspiracy Theorist from 4 rows behind him, stands up, marches down the stairs, bends down to him and says in an urgent low voice, "Bonkers, you take that silly thing off you right now!"
Bonkers shrugs and turns to talk to his daughter. Then he turns around to ask me, "Is it me?" After I had assured him that he looked fabulous, Bonkers continued to play around with his daughter talking up how great he looks in pink and having a good time. Suddenly I hear the Crazy Conspiracy Theorist say, "Bonkers. I do not know you." I look at the Husband trying not to snicker at the irony of the Crazy Conspiracy Theorist being embarrassed about being seen in the presence of Bonkers. The Husband grins at me when all of a sudden, Bonkers stands up and turns around. He puts on an extremely winning grin, waves as enthusiastically as possible and shouts, "HI CRAZY CONSPIRACY THEORIST! It's nice to see you here!"
Awesome.

Quantity of a certain beverage makes an impression.

This is never what I want to see when I walk into an elementary kid's party. We just got here, so it's too early to tell, but pray for happy drunks! (One day I'll tell the story of the mean drunk...)

Decisions, Decisions

The Son is 3; he's in a highly impressionable age group. The Husband's at a magician's conference. He wants us to come see the final magic show.
"So what?" you're probably thinking. I'd be thinking that too, except it's a conference of Christian magicians who use magic to promote the gospel. The magic's so cool and good that it gets any kid's attention and mine will probably start believing whatever it is they tell him. For most people who live in our area, there's still no problem; yet for me, there is. The Son and I are Unitarian Universalists and I do NOT approve of theology being presented to him as an absolute truth. (The Husband and I have been married 9 years and I still don't know what his religious beliefs are, but then I don't think he does either.)
I'd like to go-there's good magic and really nice people there. I'm just trying to figure out if there's a way to prepare the Son for the magic show so he doesn't get indoctrinated.

Naked

It's the Husband's birthday. We're at a taqueria. The Son is having a good time eating a gordita and making faces like those of the actors in the novelas on the TV. Suddenly, I notice the Husband's gripping at nothing. I give him a funny look. "I don't have any magic tricks," he says.
"In your pockets?" I inquire.
"No, in my HANDS...I don't feel right without them."
I make a confused grunt.
"I don't have any magic tricks in my hands to mess around with."
"You mean, by not having magic tricks to obsessively play with you feel like you're walking around without any clothes on?"
"Yeah, that's right," he replies.
I just shake my head. Never try to get inside a clown's head.