Skiing with Yo Mama


Yo Mama so dumb, she got locked in a grocery store and starved to death.

Yo Mama so slow she can’t even catch her own breath.

With all apologies to my own Mama, who is neither dumb, fat, or mean, that’s what I tolerated from Noah as we drove to and skied around the ski trails at Boulder Lake this afternoon. The trails, by the way, were lovely, with a few inches of fresh fluffy snow in the woods.

My other son and my wife Sally, knowing how slow and goofy we will be, take off and leave us. Noah starts skiing carefully and end skiing goofy. Impersonations start to roll out. The Yo Mama jokes spout from his imagination and from the Yo Mama gadget on his iGoogle homepage.

I couldn’t really do Yo Mama back at Noah, especially since his Mama is fit and smart and was outskiing all three of us guys. So I teased him a bit with a new nickname today: Pokey-man (like the videogame, get it?).

Hey, Noah: Yo Mama so fast she beat you back to the car after skiing nearly twice as far as you.


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