Well, at least I’m an impressive disappointment
My daughter has a t-shirt that looks like a pirate tunic. My wife dressed her in it this morning, and then she asked her to pick out a pair of socks. “What kind of socks does a pirate wear?”
“Arrr-gyle!” I shouted from the next room.
As always, I braced for the groan of disappointment. Like most admittedly sensible people, my wife doesn’t care for puns. Neither do I, really, but it’s my responsibility to flood the house with dad jokes, and I take that responsibility seriously.
But the groan didn’t come. “That was too fast,” she said with something closer to frustrated awe. “You’re too good at that.”
Well, at least that’s something, right? I mean, the truth is, I probably didn’t come up with that joke on the fly. I’ll bet I just read it years ago, in some long-lost volume of 101 rib-tickling, wife-angering puns. Either way, it’s good to know I’ve got an arsenal of the damned things at my disposal.
I’m going to go ahead and call that a skill, because I don’t know what else to do. It’s good to know that it might help me be a good father, even if it puts me on thin ice with my wife and just about everyone else on Earth.
Posted in Friends and Family