Now, I love puns as much as the next person, but too much of a good thing leads to dire consequences.
Due to my upbringing, my sense of humor leans toward ‘unique and perplexing.’ At the age of two, my father trained me to quote Monty Python’s The Holy Grail. He would call to me,
“Isabel, what makes you think she’s a witch?”
And I’d reply as I was trained to, “She turned me into a newt!”
Ah yes, what lovely first words from an infant. This party trick provided endless entertainment at family gatherings. Moving into my teen years, my father would show up at my high school, early, to pick me up. He’d proceed to wander about the school, asking unsuspecting students if they knew me; after doing so, he’d inform them that he was my father. In some unfortunate instances, he would even ask them for a selfie. Since I was in my first year of high school at the time, this behavior proved mortifying. He was also a ton of fun at restaurants. One night, he questioned the poor, unassuming waiter about the anatomy of a fish:
“Wait, how can you serve fish fingers? Fish don’t have fingers.”
You must know that I mark my time on this earth in relation to one monumental event: the creation of my comical father’s Instagram account. The sole purpose of his account was to publish selfies with my friends, my sister’s friends, our friend’s parents, and on one occasion, Bill Nye. Captions contained obnoxious phrases such as “#seafoodselfiesunday” and “#squadgoals #supercute.”
For a long while, I allowed myself to be tormented by my father’s antics until one day I decided…he was actually pretty funny.
I began to embrace my roots, punning my life away and embarrassing the lights out of my younger sister by trying to drop ‘hip slang’ when she was with her friends.
This was all well and good, until I left for college and the punning got out of control. I found myself sometimes having to make the polarizing choice between friends and puns. Maybe, when your friend is stressed with their work it’s not the best time to remark,
“I’m sure you’ll work it out”
I was getting carried away.
One day you’re remarking on how your friend’s camping trip in the mountains must’ve been pretty ‘in-tents.’ Then, the next thing you know, you’re waking up to find your feet encased in dark brown Keens! Quite a feet to master. What’s more, suddenly you have a hankering for a burger, washed down by an icy hard cider. What a trip!
So, if you see me around campus, clad in ill-fitting baggy jeans and a flannel, just know that I can’t help it, it’s in my jeans.
Maybe one day I’ll be as Insta-famous as my dad.
Image via my father’s Instagram account.