It's not funny. Or is it?
It was frustrating (not funny) that I couldn't get online while visiting my brother. He uses a dial-up or a neighbor's wi-fi, and I couldn't get either one to work well enough to get anything done. Perhaps there is humor in the level of my Internet addiction. My solution was to visit a Starbucks and Panera down the road, knowing that odds were good I could get wifi in one or the other, or perhaps even both. La Petite and I bought smoothies at Starbucks, and I asked if I needed a password or log-on to get online. The barista told me that it was easier to simply log onto the Panera network, since it came through the walls to both stores. Ironic (but not funny); I couldn't hijack on my own brother's hijack, but I could hijack on Panera's at Starbucks.
It was silly (not funny, just lame) that instead of using a map to get there, I jotted down the highway numbers on a sticky note. La Petite stuck it to the dashboard and called it our GPS.
It's ironic (and certainly not funny) that my brother's accident happened on his first day of real summer break. He's done with his professional commitments and was taking a ride to relax a bit. Now he's spending the next month or more recuperating from a broken leg and wrist instead of relaxing. Well, he says it himself, it could be worse. To which I add (you guessed it) -- could be raining!
It's amazing (not funny) that even at an outlet store, prices can shock me. Costs of living in the Midwest average significantly fewer $$$ than on the coasts and in the big cities. Daughter and I walked into the Coach factory store, loved the bags, but couldn't afford them even with the markdown. We had better luck at Fossil, and of course, Converse.
It's typical (not funny) that we found reason to be sarcastic even in road signs. "Bridge may be icy." "Okay, I'll be careful." "Mom, watch for blowing snow, too." Give us a break, we'd been on the road for hours and it seemed like days. Ah, road trips. They bring out the best and the worst in us. Sometimes, they bring out our sense of humor. While brother was coming home from his surgery and we were going the opposite direction on I-90, he called La Petite (in his post-anesthesia stupor) to see if we could wave to each other on the highway.
Now that's funny. Stumble It!