(I’m studying to get my certification to sell insurance. A friend sends me a joke and I read it aloud to my boyfriend.)
Me: “Would a Transformer get car insurance or life insurance?”
Boyfriend: *pause* “He can just bundle and save.”
(I’m working the front desk at a chain hotel when a couple with a baby comes in. They check in without issue and head up to their room. About ten minutes later, the father enters the lobby and approaches me looking nervous.)
Father: “I found a mouse under the heater in our room.”
Me: “Oh, my. Sir, I am—”
Father: “No, it’s okay. It was dead.”
(He places a wireless computer mouse on the counter; I am very relieved.)
Father: “Sorry. I’m a dad now. I couldn’t resist that.”
(I’m a fairly innocent kid. When I’m in seventh grade, I’m ecstatic to get the part of a Lost Boy in my school’s production of “Peter Pan.” My character, Pans, wears a pot on his head at all times. My mother begins hatching a plot when I come home with the pot, and that night she springs into action.)
Mom: “Hey, [My Name]?”
Me: “Yeah?”
Mom: “Can you help me with something?”
Me: “Yeah, what?”
Mom: *grinning* “I need you to put on your costume, go out into the living room, and tell your father, ‘Look, Dad, I’m a pothead.’”
(This seems a little weird to me, but I don’t know if there’s a joke there or what she’s talking about. I trust my mother, so I do what she asks.)
Me: *walks into the living room* “Hey, Dad!”
Dad: *looks up from magazine*
Me: “Look, I’m a pothead!”
Dad: *puts his head in his hands and groans*
Mom: *dying of laughter*
(I didn’t fully understand what my mom had been laughing at or why my dad had been groaning until I was much, much older.)
(I’m getting ready to check out at a big-box home improvement store. I’m placing my items on the belt when I notice a reflective sticker with the numeral zero off to the side of the belt. It’s not unusual; sometimes people decide they don’t want something and leave it off to the side.)
Cashier: *pointing at the sticker* “Is that your Zero?”
Me: *faux indignant* “That means nothing to me!”
(My kids giggled, being used to my “dad humor.” The cashier didn’t even crack a smile.)
Wife: *in the bathroom* “Could you bring me the TP?”
(I bring her the little teepee she made for our daughter as a fort.)
Wife: *does not laugh*
