Your Momma Jokes Novels & Stories

"I'm sorry, Mom, I didn't realize it was so late." I regret saying that. "Already ar ehere? Look, Daniela ... " "I can't look at you, Mom, just listen to you." I laugh and try to lower my mother's anger and worry. "I hate you doing that!" He also laughs at my joke. Mom has a habit of laughing at any nonsense I might say. Since I was little she celebrates everything. I was not a problem and she applauded her decent daughter. "Oh, Mom, if you could see what I got into."

“Do you know how many kids would kill to go on road trips all the time?” How many kids would kill? I don’t know. Heading south, north. To the mountains, away from the sea. Riding high up in trucks with burly drivers who crack rude jokes and complain about their hemorrhoids in ways that make the stories funny. It’s not so bad. It’s not so bad at all. Like there’s a hand on my throat, but I’m laughing anyway. “Don’t think about it, babe,” Momma says. “All we have is now, and now is all that matters.” That hand on my throat. And I’m laughing.

“Little things make me happy.” “I guess that’s what happens when you’ve experienced jail.” I attempt a joke in a lighter tone and I immediately feel chastened. I hold my breath for her reaction as she studies my expression carefully, but then she surprises us both by laughing. My mother has never laughed at my jokes before. Ever.

I said, picking up the call. “Finally I get to hear your voice. For a second there I thought you were dead,” she joked. That was my mother. A woman who loved dark humor to its core. “How is the weather over in the states treating you? Are you okay? Do they serve some of those hamburgers that give cancer?” “Mum, that’s fake news. You don’t need to say that again. Maybe some time you can visit here.” “Sure, maybe when I’m dead,” she laughed as I rolled my eyes.

I said hugging her tightly. They started making plans how to torture my husband and I think I am going to enjoy this. "Oh common guys I am hungry," I said smiling. "You won't eat this time right," Mumma asked suspiciously making me blush. "Don't tell me I am going to be Grandma," My mother-in-law joked looking at me and I nodded my head making them squeal in surprise. Both mothers started jumping like school girls making me irritate. Why I have to be in this alien family?

She waved her hand lightly, the diamonds on her fingers catching the light. “Oh, heavens, don’t look so grim. It was nothing,” she said. “It’s an old joke, that’s all. You know how people say boys can be too much like being wild and dramatic, and how it is exhausting to be a boy mom. So the joke is about how a mother knows she needs so much help to raise them. It’s just something the older generation repeats. Nothing serious.” Her gaze shifted amongst the crowd. “Don’t tell me you don’t know it.”

She leaned forward and wrapped her wrists around my neck. “I was thinking about the time you climbed up my window and dad was away on business. So mom was like hyper aware of noises. She heard us while you were going down on me and barrelled into the room with a shotgun,” she laughed, really loud. I laughed too, but made a face. “I pissed my pants,” I said, cocking my head to the side. She laughed even more, kicking my sides. “It was the fucking BEST, oh my god we joked about that for years. Mom and I had some jokes,” she said, as the toast popped up.

"You don’t get my jokes?" "I never get your jokes dad even mom." Dad immediately face mom. "You don’t get my jokes honey?" "No! I do well most of the time." She smile sheepishly. "Tyler, my jokes aren’t that bad right?" I glanced at Tyler and saw him shaking his head. "No, of course not. I find it funny." "See… even Tyler like it." I rolled my eyes. "He’s a liar." I muttered lowly. Dad raised his eyebrow to me. "What’s that?"

"Kaiden and Roman would have such a field day if they ever heard me telling something like that." "Well, good thing I'm not a dad. Hey, do you want to hear a joke about construction? I'm still working on it." I choke on my own saliva in an effort to groan louder than Dad, but I have to admit mom's lame jokes are taking my mind off the stinging pain and desire in my body. "Then there's the one about the clown who visited his cousin in Austra—" Dad opens his mouth to cut her off, but he's interrupted by a loud banging on the front door.

She would just crack this joke about him searching for the world’s best coffee or some equally crazy thing. It was her quirky way of coping, of dealing with the pain_ turning it into humor. And you know what? It kinda worked for a while, made me laugh and forget the whole deal. But as I got older, those jokes mom made started to feel hollow. I craved the truth about why dad decided to leave us behind.