Holding on to Humour
Last Wednesday night, a colleague's brother passed away suddenly.
When I saw the colleague this morning, after some banter (started by him), I asked, "How's your family?"
He didn't miss a beat when I he answered, "Smaller."
I couldn't help it: I grinned. I wanted my jaw to drop in shock. I wanted to sputter or blush or something. But I did none of those things. I grinned. And when he started to tease me about how I should be reacting to his wicked behaviour, I laughed and laughed and laughed.
When I saw the colleague this morning, after some banter (started by him), I asked, "How's your family?"
He didn't miss a beat when I he answered, "Smaller."
I couldn't help it: I grinned. I wanted my jaw to drop in shock. I wanted to sputter or blush or something. But I did none of those things. I grinned. And when he started to tease me about how I should be reacting to his wicked behaviour, I laughed and laughed and laughed.