Josephine and I were happy to have been invited to see Cirque Avaia with friends last Saturday. She was happiest with the horses, of course. So was I. They were simple. They ran or walked in circles, and people did things with them or on them.
But what lingers is her asking about the clowns, and why they wanted a lady in the audience to have their hearts and why that was supposed to be funny. I mean, to a three year old in a worry-free television world, clowns are supposed to be funny, right? And so I have been trying to distill the notion of comedy to her, and explaining how it is often balanced by tragedy, and how sometimes humour sometimes isn't funny in a "ha ha" way.
I am asking her as many questions as I am answering. I'm having to add in discussions about monogamy (part of the skit was that the lady in the audience had a gentleman next to her who claimed possession of her). Littering has come up (the heart was left behind). Farce has been confused with farts (I found that funny too!). And finding alternative words for "ludicrously improbable situations" has been an almost enjoyable challenge for me.
It is with some relief that days later, she's moved on to just trying to perform acrobatic tricks and daredevil stunts on her bouncy horse. Now I just have to yell "Please make smart and safe choices!" across the room twenty times a day. It's much, much better.
I'll take a bump on her noggin over another discussion about pathos with a three year old any day.
