Last week a friend told me I wasn’t very funny when I was pregnant. Personally I challenge anyone to strap on a 30 pound watermelon, try to shave their right leg…oh, and then crack a smile. Look, it’s not about being funny. Looking funny, yes. Being funny, no.

I remember this time last year, I had just returned from my 20th high school reunion…and a road trip. It’s a long story, but the short version is that on that road trip:

• …we were chauffeured by my friend’s husband. We both sat in the back seat and I remember her saying to him, point-blank,”Look, we aren’t listening to heavy metal and electric guitars!” Apparently his DJ days were short-lived. Good thing he graduated from West Point and had that to “fall back” on.

• …we got kicked out of the Starbucks in Gainesville by an over-zealous employee. Short story? We were trying to take a picture of a “My Little Pony” next to a mola. Ok, on second thought…don’t ask.

• …we got stuck in traffic, got wise and followed the GPS off-course, and then had to “off-road it” back to our original starting point because Garmin was wrong.

• …my friend ate Funnions with a fury. I ate two bars of “Hershey’s with almonds” and kept asking, “What’s a Funnion?” To-date I still have no idea.

Last year I was not pregnant in early July, and it was the best jam-packed 12-hours in a car anyone could have. (Well, unless you have striped pants and a painted face…and a beetle parked next to a red phone booth. But even that’s a stretch.) Nine months later I was hauling lead and trying not to hurt the elderly…or small children who happened to wander aimlessly into my path. Some said it was hormones. Pickles and ice cream? Whatever! I just wanted to rewind so I could down Cosmos in a fancy glass…yes, before dawn.

I had Julia back in April, so it’s been a little over three months. I’ve had time to recoup and live a little; I’ve had a moment or two to reflect. Conclusion? It’s not that I wasn’t funny when I was pregnant, I simply had time to adjust the “standards bar” and set it really low. Sure, losing 40 pounds and fitting back into your “skinny jeans” helps you gain a new perspective, but being able to smile (because you don’t want to hurl) makes all the difference in the world. Having friends that tell you like it is, or call you at 11:30pm on a Friday night to test the theory that if you laugh too hard milk will come out of your nose (if you aren’t drinking soda that is), does the same.

Funny…makes funny. Just sayin’.