My parents are bringing my younger siblings and me to the aquarium. One of the staff members is giving a talk about the crabs they have in the rock pool, with some live demonstrations.

Aquarium Staff: “And it’s these adaptations that make the crab such an effective predator. In fact, there’s a consensus among biologists that several routes of evolution all develop towards a crab.”

My dad, the long-suffered prankster, raises his hand.

Dad: “Scientists realised that and tried to speed things up by combining crab DNA with that of a cheetah.”

Aquarium Staff: “I bet things went sideways real fast.”

My dad stands there motionless. No one has ever stolen his dad joke punchline before. His face says it all.

Aquarium Staff: “I’m a dad too, mate. Plus, I work with crabs. Heard ‘em all. Anyway, who wants to see the giant spider crabs?!”

My dad was sulking the rest of the day.

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I’m working the register during a steady afternoon rush. A customer steps up with a couple of items, and I ring them through.

Me: “Your total is $18.42. Would you like to round up a dollar today to support the Children’s Literacy Fund?”

Customer: “No, thank you.”

I’m ready to move on, but my coworker at the next register decides she’s the Donation Police.

Coworker: “Oh, come on! It’s just a dollar. Don’t you care about kids learning to read?”

Customer: “I care very much. I donate plenty to charities.”

Coworker: “Then one more dollar shouldn’t be a big deal, right?”

Customer: “It is when that dollar ends up being part of a corporation’s tax write-off so your bosses can all pat themselves on the back.”

Coworker: “Well—”

Customer: “I prefer my donations to be actual donations, not marketing copy. So no.”

I hand over the receipt and close out the sale. After the customer leaves:

Coworker: “She didn’t need to be like that!”

Me: “And you didn’t need to press her after she politely declined. Next time, just leave it alone.”

Coworker: “Still, she could have been nicer.”

Me: “And she could have been a lot meaner. I’d say she was being… charitable.”

Maybe it was a result of my having a point, or making a terrible pun, but she (thankfully) stopped talking to me after that.

I teach a first-grade class. I have a bucket of sharpened pencils for them to use.

Student: “Miss [My Name], I need a pencil.”

Me: “Where do the pencils live?”

Student: *Thinks.* “Pennsylvania?”

He didn’t know why I was laughing. He also didn’t get why I told him that he’s gonna make a great dad one day…

I’ve come out from a four-hour study session (finals are coming!), to see that my roommate still hasn’t done the dishes to prioritize playing a video game.

Me: “[Roommate], come on! The dishes have been there all day! If I come out one more time and see them dirty again…”

Roommate: “If I don’t do the dishes, they can’t get dirty again.”

Me: “Philosophically, that’s spotless, but practically that’s still disgusting.”

Roommate: *Pauses game, gets up.* “Fine, I guess I’ll be persecuted for my philosophy.”

Me: “Calm down, Socrates.”

Roommate: *Holding up a plate.* “I’m more of a Plate-o.”

I retreat back to my room, the puns suddenly more painful than the dirty dishes.

I’d taken my son to the mall for a trick or treating event where stores give out free candy to the kids. One store participating was a shoe store, and it had two men in front of it handing out treats, one dressed as an angel, the other as a devil.

Devil: “If you’ll just sign a little contract for me, I’ll give you all the candy you want. What could go wrong?”

Son: “Really?”

Me: “He’s kidding.”

Devil: “Hey, if you can’t trust me, who can you trust? Here, son, have an extra candy.”

Me: “I’m kind of surprised they let you dress up as the devil, no one’s freaked out and sprayed you with holy water yet, have they?”

Devil: “No, we haven’t had any trouble. And they had to let me be the devil when I pointed out it’s literally my job to sell soles.”