I’ve always had an odd sense of humor.
I was never quite sure how to describe it until a wise man told me that it’s dry. And I thought, Yes! Yes, dry is the perfect description. Finally, I can understand myself completely.
So much of my life made sense–like how I always laughed in class at professors’ dry jokes (Kuyper students: Dr. Felch is hilarious and you should laugh at all of his jokes. Every time. Always. Even if you’ve heard him introduce himself four times), or why I struggle telling stories that are “traditionally” funny and the punch line comes out a little flat (or a lot flat. or sometimes .
Understanding that my sense of humor is dry explained so much about myself.
But then, I began to question where this flavor came from. My mom? My dad?
While my mom is funny, she’s not really the jokester type. For example, last night I was cracking up while watching her chase a rooster around the chicken pen with a fishing net threatening his life, catching him and hurting him a little in the process, then apologize for hurting him, then tell him he’s dinner later this week. It was a hilarious moment. But it was unscripted and original, like my mom’s humor.
My dad’s humor is… yes, a little dry. But it also has a few hints of sarcasm and a whole lot of childlike goofiness. And he gets the punchline right.
And then, over the course of the last couple years, it dawned on me.
This guy. My sense of humor is like this guy.
This is my G-pa, my mom’s dad.
There are many, many, many, many wonderful qualities about my G-pa. But, one that not every one gets to hear is his quick, dry whit. And, many people might not even catch his dry jokes, he’s that sly with his humor. His delivery is impeccable. His poker face is perfect. His sense of humor is side-splittin’ funny.
I’m really grateful that I can be like my G-pa in at least one way.