This is today’s panel of the Quigmans

Usually, I don’t get too worked up over a joke.  I can laugh at myself and others fairly easily.  But this comic stuck in my craw this morning.  Really.  I hate that it did, cause the quigmans is one of the handful of good comics in mainstream press, and I adore it.  I don’t know what invisible line it crossed for me.  Maybe I don’t think that environmental devastation and alcoholism are things to joke about.  Maybe it’s the Native American stereotype thrown in there.  At the same time, I see the humor.  I get the joke, and I think it’s funny.  But, the reality behind it is not funny.  Maybe this was more about opening discussion than about getting a laugh.  Maybe it was supposed to strike a nerve.  I tend to be really dense when it comes to "getting" things; whether it’s film or books or art.  I just think that if the goal is to open discussion the attention getter ought to be less, well, inflammatory.  It’s hard to have dialogue when the opener is divisive. 

Too much analysis.  My head hurts and I can’t even tell if I’m making myself clear.  Because after all, I’m only a mommy blogger.  (See?  I can laugh at myself.  And you, too, sometimes.)

(Edited to add:

I do realize that this is most likely a dig at that old commercial from the 70’s, which many people find to be condescending and pandering.)

The funny is all about bras.  So, here’s your chance to get out while you can if need be.  I nurse my kids forever.  Lexy was 4 years and 3 months when I weaned him.  Nate weaned at about 3 and a half, Soph at 3 yrs 10 mos.  The kids call nursing and breasts, "ni," like the knights who say "ni."  After nearly nine years of mostly fugly nursing bras, I went sort of recently to vicktoreya’s secret and purchased two real, actual support garments, non-nursing.  Not sexy, but useful.  Sophie picked one up and looked at it.  "Oh, look!  Ni-caps!!"

that lost something in the telling

Today I was getting dressed to go to the dentist.  I wasn’t planning to breastfeed anyone there so I put on one of the real bras.  Sophie must not’ve seen me in one before.  She started laughing and asked if I was wearing that kind of bra, "to keep people from drinking up all the milk or something." 

yeah, well, it was funny at the time

Now for the sad.  This boy is local.  (oh, man, just looking at the link for ten seconds has me bawling)  The kids know about him, and have t-shirts and rubber bracelets that say, "never give up."  Lexy especially was very taken and affected by the story of this child.  We talked about him often, and Lexy really opened up with me about his own fears and how brave this boy is and how cool and amazing his work was.  He found a hero, a real one, and that is too rare.  I haven’t told the boys yet that he died.  I start to, and then I’m just so sad myself that I don’t want to give them any of the sadness.  I’ll tell them, and soon; I don’t want them to hear about it in an offhand way from someone who may not realize how upsetting this will be for them.