Chatting with The Cay-Man

The Cayman, our resident 6-year old, Caleb. Also known as the Cay-meister, Cay or the Cay-Dawg.

Cayman: “Mummy, not that I want to be a comedian, but when you become a comedian, what do they do to you?”

Me: “What do you mean?”

Cayman: “Do they give you a blood test or a needle?”

Me: “No darling. Usually, if you want to be a comedian, you start out going and doing gigs for free. You get up and do five minutes of material…”

Cayman: “What’s material?”

Me: “It’s what you say and do onstage to make people laugh.”

Cayman: “Oh yeah. Then what happens?”

Me: “Then if you want to keep going with it, you keep trying and working out how to be funnier. Then once you start making lots of people laugh all the time, the people who pay you to do comedy will hear about you.”

Cayman: “Not that I want to be famous, but how do you get famous?”

Me: “Well, there’s lots of ways to get famous but getting famous isn’t necessarily a good thing.”

Cayman: “Yeah, I know. Do you want to be famous?”

Me: “What do you think?”

Cayman: “No.”

Me: “Well, yes and no. I mean, I’d like to be famous enough that lots of people come to my shows. But I don’t want to be famous enough that people want to take my photo all the time.”

Cayman: “Yeah. Me either.”


Cayman: “Cos then if you’re really famous they follow you into the shower and take photos of you and then give you 1000 magazines in case you rip one.”


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jennywynter Written by:


  1. October 3, 2010

    Perhaps a comedian in the making after all….Don’t you just love little boys? Most stories end with some kind of bodily sound and farts more often than not. Gotta love them

    • October 3, 2010

      If any of the kids goes into comedy, I predict it will be the Caydawg! I do adore my boys: much to my surprise (not that they’re not fabulous, just that I was raised in a household with girls, thus was a little worried that I’d have no freaking clue what to do with them). But yes, I love my boys. Burping the alphabet and all.

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