Lesbian Dancing After The Show: An Improviser's Non Improvised Life

Why Mother In-Law Jokes Exists

Some people who are married and fortunate to have amazing in-laws find mother-in-law jokes pretty hack.

I get that, especially when your mother-in-law is the type of person who is sincerely generous to a fault, can sit down and enjoy your favorite cocktail of choice and have conversations with you that are witty, joyous and fantastic. A person whose personality is closer to a novel character who is the voice of joy and reason...instead of the ten-minute tale of a shrew at The Chuckle Factory in Omaha, Nebraska before you get the red light.

More Norman Rockwell than Shecky Greene.

To you I say this: Congrat-u-fucking-lations. You win. You win on picking not only an amazing life partner...but their amazing mom. You are the luckiest human in the world. I completely understand your disdain for mother-in-law jokes. I think you have been given the ultimate prize in the relationship game. You got the Mother-In-Law Major Award.

You are in the percentage of people who cannot even understand the idea of that mother-in-law joke, because your Mother-In-Law does not sit on the couch and complain about everything.

I haven't spoken to my mother-in-law for eighteen months. I don't like to interrupt her.

You are in that lucky column of people who cringe at this joke that might be directed to your in-law, because in reality she is generous in everything she does for her family and others.

How many mothers-in-law does it take to change a light bulb?
One. She just holds it up there and waits for the world to revolve around her.

The lucky will not get that joke. Especially when you have not spent twenty years hearing how everyone else is horrible but her...how other races are far less superior than what she is, how she has never worked a day in her life, and by the time her husband has passed away, thinks everyone is stealing from her...and yet...has no idea how to do anything herself, because the world has revolved easily around her, to the point of her being completely inept at doing as much.

I'm the unlucky one the jokes apply to.

All her life my Mother-In-Law has held this light bulb, waiting for the world to revolve around her. I could add that the tiara is also getting in the way...so she is waiting for the world to scoot that away from the ceiling.

Hans announced to his parents that we were officially dating in 1988, two years after we were actually dating. For two years they thought I was the really kind woman who was his friend doing improv comedy with him who inevitable opened a comic book store called Hep Cat Comics with him. It wasn't until we both decided to move into an apartment complex over the store, that he announced we were a couple.

Hans' mother went ballistic. She was horrified. Her son was dating a black woman. In a fit of zealous rage on the phone, Mrs. Summers disowned Hans. She hung up the phone on him.

Hans punched a hole in the wall of the loft of our comic book store. The first time I had ever seen Hans in a complete rage. I told him that this was not worth it, and his family was more important than anything.

He said to me: Babycakes, you are my family now.

A week later she called him back.

Her: HANSY! WHY HAVEN'T YOU CALLED ME??
Hans: Well, you disowned me. The object of disownment is to not talk to each other.
Her: I WAS KIDDING!

They then came from Indiana to take us to dinner. Mrs. Summers goes on and on about her training in Germany. And, Hitler.

She talked about Hitler. A lot. Waxing sort of nostalgic about him, really. At some point I was waiting for her to mention the great things about Hitler akin to the movie Judgment at Nuremberg: