Thirty- something speaks
Men really do mature...somewhat
Mike Maddock

My wife often wonders why I find bodily functions so amusing. She doesn't understand how I could possibly consider movies like Dumb and Dumber and Happy Gilmore to be classics. She can't comprehend my need to giggle when she is trying to teach my kids some manners. I could explain it to her, but she wouldn't believe the honest answer, which is that I am a man. Simply put…I don't know any better.

Now there are some men out there who find the phrase "pull my finger" repulsive, and I don't blame them for that. I congratulate those men for reaching a level of maturity in their humor worlds I'll never even sniff (no pun intended). There are also some women out there, usually the ones that grew up with older brothers, who like Austin Powers movies and laugh every time a politician says, "Duty." But in general, it is safe to assume sophomoric humor is mostly reserved for the male species.

I came to accept these truths a while ago, but now that I've watched my son in his first four years of life, I can say I truly understand their origins. My son likes to laugh, and it doesn't take much to get him going. I can tickle him unmercifully, and he'll giggle until he threatens a urinary emergency. His older sisters can just look at him weird and send him into hysterics. It doesn't take much from an adult or older child to make a four- year- old boy chuckle. What's interesting is watching him with his peers. This is how I found out that no matter how weird or disgusting my wife thinks I am, I've really come a long way since I was a four- year- old little boy.

My son and his buddies will laugh at just about anything. One can be speaking incomprehensible drivel, and the other will think it's the funniest thing he's ever heard.

They take turns.

"Booga wooga booky doo!" one will scream, and the other will laugh like he's at a Chris Rock show. Then the other will take a turn, "Booky doo wooga!" and both will have tears in their eyes. I've never seen anything like it (at least not that I can remember).

My son prefers physical humor to the "booky doo wooga" stand- up routines. He likes to hit himself in the head with various foreign objects to rounds of uproarious laughter. My wife may question my maturity level now, but when you start by screaming "Booky doo" and hitting yourself in the forehead with plastic shovels, suddenly whoopee cushions and the Farralley Brothers seem sophisticated.

Boys are just wired differently from the start. The evidence is plain on any preschool playground. Precious little girls play house and cook sand soufflés, while in another part of the sandbox, boys with buckets on their heads are bouncing off one another like demolition derby cars and, of course, laughing uncontrollably.

It's a wonder we guys have evolved this far. So, Ladies, the next time your husband makes you sit through a movie like Dumb and Dumber , just be glad he's not screaming "Booky doo booky!" and hitting himself in the head with a plastic sand toy.