My Dad Tells a Lot of Jokes.

My dad tells a lot of jokes.

That was a total lie.  He does not tell a lot of jokes.  My dad has told the same four jokes for my entire life.  And, they are more are less puns, and more or less things only dads find worthy of repeating.

A couple weeks ago, when I was on skype with him, he started in on one;

“So, Kari, last night I went to bed really, really hungry.  And I had this dream that I ate a giant marshmallow.  And then when I woke up, my pillow was gone!  Boy, was I down in the mouth.”

I think I pretended to laugh or something. 

A couple days later, something weird happened.  I was with some of my friends here, and I said “my dad told me his joke again the other night.”  And then I listened to myself retell it.

And then something even weirder happened.  My friends laughed.  No, not a polite, “thanks for trying!” laugh, they legitimately laughed.  Like, it shook them deep down in their bellies; one of my friends was even doubled over, supporting himself on his knees he was laughing so hard.  And I couldn’t even translate the “down in the mouth” pun, which is arguably the only clever part of that joke.

So, why does this story make it onto my blog?  Well, boys and girls, I want you all to know, that with enough ambition and a good ol’ college try, you can all someday, just like my father, turn your pillows into giant marshmallows.

Totally kidding.  Aren't I funnier than my dad??

No, but really, here’s my point.  There is a lot of beauty in this YAGM year that we have been given, but arguably one of the most beautiful and valuable parts is that it is new; we are hearing the jokes for the first time. 

I can’t role my eyes at the “punch line” of having friends and a community with whom I can share, and I am constantly amazed at the difference a good listener and a good conversation can make in my day.  Simple every day, repeated tasks are painted with the fresh coat of my new surroundings.  This year, I experienced Advent and Epiphany during summer, so I had to look at the seasons differently, and re-examine what had previously seemed so familiar back home. 

Now that I am about half way through with my year, I am understanding the context more and am more able to laugh along with those around me, while still appreciating the surprise and newness in each day.

I think this is where my joke metaphor ends, but I feel as though for the sake of parallel structure, I should end with another one…Here we go:

Pete and Repeat were in a boat.  Pete fell out.  Who was left?

(My dad was a big fan of that one in the 90’s, thank goodness it has since fallen out of his repertoire.)