Being from the east coast, sarcasm is a huge part of my lexicon of humor. I once lived in Seattle, and after 8 months of knowing a friend they said to me “Ohhhhh…You’re being sarcastic. You were joking!! Wow… I just thought you were kind of bitchy. Now I get it!”

Much like west-coasters, babies do not get sarcasm.

I try it all the time on The Munch, and she either gives me the stink eye, or out right cries if I make jokes about how she ruined my connection to my core. She definitely doesn’t appreciate my bit of “Wah… wah… I’m a baby and I cry and need things.” Sure, she stops whining for a second, but only because she is committing the moment to memory for her future therapy sessions.

You know who else doesn’t get sarcasm? My dog. If I am all “Mona, are you hungry? Well let me prepare a nice steak for you if your dog food doesn’t suffice,” and then I don’t prepare the filet mignon. She too gets rather annoyed.

Get a sense of humor already!

“Ummm I don’t get it…”