Physical Comedy

Sarah loved telling jokes and knock-knock jokes were a particular favorite. She had a page of them on her speech device. Knock-knock, who’s there? Boo. Boo who? You don’t have to cry, it’s just a knock-knock joke. I’m told a lot of kids with neurological, developmental or speech issues like knock-knock jokes. They like the way they get told the same way every single time, the way the joke unfolds according to a strict protocol that everyone understands, so the kid has control over the joke and can master how to tell it, as opposed to narrative type jokes or sarcastic one-liners, which can be harder to tell or to understand the point of. Of course a lot typical kids like knock-knock jokes too.

Sarah would often revert to the page of knock-knock jokes on her talker when she didn’t want to do schoolwork, or when she was feeling impish. She knew we would groan and beg her “No more knock-knock jokes!” and she would double down and torture us some more. She was especially devilish with her tutor, Emily, who really was a saint at putting up with the knock-knock jokes during lesson times.

Max always tells the story that Sarah’s first joke was at about six months old when he was getting her dressed and she took a sock and put it on top of her head and starting laughing hysterically. She was so pleased with her physical comedy. I really wish I had been there to see that.

She loved any kind of physical comedy from Max and me, and laughed at sneezes, pratfalls, and any bodily functions. She liked to see us bend over to pick things up off the floor with our tushes in the air. That always got a laugh. Any kind of stumble would get a laugh too, and she didn’t seem to pick up on the fact that it could be painful to trip since she was ordinarily the most empathic of souls.

She couldn’t stand to see us say no or reprimand Polly the Beagle, for instance. She would cry if she felt any animal or kid was being treated harshly. Max and I would be left basically whispering “No Polly, get out of the garbage,” because if we said it to the dog in a strong clear tone of voice, Sarah would cry. I think Polly was her alter ego in many ways, doing the naughty things she wasn’t capable of doing. She loved to see Polly’s antics. As you might guess, Polly is not a well-trained dog. But we love her a lot.