Third Kids Are Funny
My latest theory: third kids are the funniest.
(this is to follow up my previous theory that Indian women that don't like spicy food will eventually marry white guys who do. In other words, based on little fact, but as the theory hasn't been put out there yet, I may as well do it).
My brother-in-law, a third-born, will be performing at a comedy club in NYC on Monday. His brothers - nope. Never.
The logic behind it is: the first-born is always trying to be serious, to be grown up. Their comedic influences are their parents and the adults with whom the parents spend time. The downside of extra attention is the subsequent seriousness. Sense of humor is somewhat questionable, because parents still believe they should laugh at the kid's jokes, funny or not, much to the detriment of comedic development.
Second-borns want to be like their elder sibling. Their comedic influences are their parents (to some degree), and their elder sibling, who, as stated earlier, is too busy trying to be serious and getting false positive feedback.
Third-borns, however, are influenced not directly by their elder siblings' actions, but by the interactions between the two siblings. They benefit from the peer interactions the first-born is finally exposed to (hopefully having friends who are themselves third-borns), which is then brought home. And as the first and second born siblings spend time together, there is an absolute dispelling of seriousness because their interactions are free from parental hovering. This is what the third-born learns. That, and by then, parents are way over laughing at jokes that aren't funny. Only genuine laughter exists (or is held back).
When my youngest was one, Adam Sandler's movie, 'Don't Mess With Zohan,' was in the theaters. Nobody in my family has ever seen it, but apparently the elder two saw a preview for it on television, and started re-enacting some scene where Zohan puts his foot in another guy's face and says 'Smell it...smell it.' Well, one day, as I was changing my son's diaper, his feet are up in the air, and while I'm focused on the task at hand, he stretches out his foot and says 'mell it, mell it.' Seriously. A freaking one-year-old getting his diaper changed!
Flash forward to now, and my son, who is a month away from turning three, is hilarious. It's a bit of a problem, of course, because it's so hard to discipline him when I'm biting my lip to keep from smiling. But while he still can't properly pronounce his brothers' names, he's got comedic timing down pat.
And of course, as I write this, I cannot think of a single example of what he has said. Next time, I start with that!
(this is to follow up my previous theory that Indian women that don't like spicy food will eventually marry white guys who do. In other words, based on little fact, but as the theory hasn't been put out there yet, I may as well do it).
My brother-in-law, a third-born, will be performing at a comedy club in NYC on Monday. His brothers - nope. Never.
The logic behind it is: the first-born is always trying to be serious, to be grown up. Their comedic influences are their parents and the adults with whom the parents spend time. The downside of extra attention is the subsequent seriousness. Sense of humor is somewhat questionable, because parents still believe they should laugh at the kid's jokes, funny or not, much to the detriment of comedic development.
Second-borns want to be like their elder sibling. Their comedic influences are their parents (to some degree), and their elder sibling, who, as stated earlier, is too busy trying to be serious and getting false positive feedback.
Third-borns, however, are influenced not directly by their elder siblings' actions, but by the interactions between the two siblings. They benefit from the peer interactions the first-born is finally exposed to (hopefully having friends who are themselves third-borns), which is then brought home. And as the first and second born siblings spend time together, there is an absolute dispelling of seriousness because their interactions are free from parental hovering. This is what the third-born learns. That, and by then, parents are way over laughing at jokes that aren't funny. Only genuine laughter exists (or is held back).
When my youngest was one, Adam Sandler's movie, 'Don't Mess With Zohan,' was in the theaters. Nobody in my family has ever seen it, but apparently the elder two saw a preview for it on television, and started re-enacting some scene where Zohan puts his foot in another guy's face and says 'Smell it...smell it.' Well, one day, as I was changing my son's diaper, his feet are up in the air, and while I'm focused on the task at hand, he stretches out his foot and says 'mell it, mell it.' Seriously. A freaking one-year-old getting his diaper changed!
Flash forward to now, and my son, who is a month away from turning three, is hilarious. It's a bit of a problem, of course, because it's so hard to discipline him when I'm biting my lip to keep from smiling. But while he still can't properly pronounce his brothers' names, he's got comedic timing down pat.
And of course, as I write this, I cannot think of a single example of what he has said. Next time, I start with that!
posted by BrainHickey | 10:38 PM
1 Comments:
Thanks for the compliment. I'm 3rd born too, (and I think I'm kind of funny). Actually, lots of studies have proved out your theory. Comedians tend to be the youngest child, leaders tend to be the oldest. Birth order is fascinating stuff.
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