Scatological Humor?

Perhaps it is rudimentary, but I have a bit of a scatological humor about me that cracks opened my mouth into a waterfall of thundering exhalations of jubilant laughter. It is not the randomness of “potty” that makes me roar, but the memories tugging me into nostalgia. I feel myself as a simpler soul when I whip these “foul and immature” jokes across a table. A simple soul that didn’t look in that bathroom mirror and scrutinize the shapes and patterns of my fleshy curvature and ask why, who, and what I am, it was a precious time, childhood. It was a time that I truly loved myself and everything attached to me. It was where natural things were naturally funny. My diction and actions weren’t monitored by outside feedback, nor was I concerned about other’s reactions and my reputation. My mouth ran close by my spirit. It is this type of icky yucky humor that transports me back to childhood and also back to my foreign exchange year in Spain. My foreign exchange year was a unique experience. I like to say that I experienced childhood twice; my second childhood was spent in Spain. I had to relearn everything again i.e. the language, customs, traditions, expressions, and norms. Like a baby’s mind, I was forced to cross new synaptic clefts and build new and strange bridges of knowledge in order to survive in Spain. I remember one of my first and unusual learning experiences in Spain. It was my first encounter with the Spanish public restroom. I couldn’t find the light switch, the stall’s light switch or the flusher, and the toilet paper was coarse and brown that resembled the brown paper sacks at your local grocery store. When I did discover the stall’s light switch it turned off every fifteen seconds. So my first restroom experience in Spain was spent in the dark. Later I discovered that most public restrooms in Spain had automatic light switches to conserve energy and money. I had much difficultly and hardships in that public Spanish restroom that were only comparable to my potty training years. Spain had taught life lessons that I never dreamed of, like not all toilets have a flusher on the side of the toilet. Oh! I also learned a new language, tolerance, empathy, an international perspective, new values, norms, and traditions. My scatological humor reminds me of these simpler times in my life when my process of socialization wasn’t complete; my potential was at its apex, and my brain was a sponge waiting to mop up juicy knowledge. It is the idea of simpler and more tolerant times that pushes out these potty words that I hope and anticipate would be the secret “open sesame” phrase that would open the door to infinite comprehension in a voluble conversation. Perhaps my humor is immature, but I hope to keep it that way.