My Problem is I Think I'm Funny

I’m the funniest person I know. Seriously.

I always laugh at my own jokes, no matter how poorly I tell them. Perhaps it’s more accurate to say I always laugh at my own punchlines—because I’ve often forgotten the joke’s set-up and only recall the payoff. Still funny though, even if you had to be there. In my head.

Someone once said, “Blessed are those that can laugh at themselves, for they shall never cease to be amused.” Of course, I don’t remember who said it because remembering the author is more “set-up” than “pay-off”, so there you have it--proof of my earlier assertion. Feel free to know trust me about the Funniest Person thing, too.

Being a Funny Person isn’t without its drawbacks. Occasionally, other people don’t find me as knee-slapping hilarious as I actually am. While I prefer not to have to explain my jokes—or my thinking-- I’m willing to do so if the need arises.

Take, for example, this anecdote: I’m driving home after a successful shopping venture to buy my oldest grandson a Big Boy Bed. We have achieved the bed—now his parents get to convince him that this truly is an upgrade and not part of a clever ploy on the part of his Soon to Make an Appearance Baby Brother to usurp his rightful place in the crib. Since this battle will not affect my sleep quality, I am in a Very Good Mood.

I decide that stopping by a coffee stand and treating myself to a Venti* hot chocolate would be a very celebratory thing to do. (*Venti—from the Latin, meaning “next to biggest size beverage you can buy, it’s a LOT, but since it’s not the BIGGEST, you can still feel as though you are exercising some self-control.”)

I tell the barista that I would like a “Cheery Hot Chocolate,” because, hey, I’m feeling super “cheery” today.

“Cheery?” she asks.

“Cheery!” I say. 

At this point in our exchange, I probably should have added more information, that by “cheery” I meant festive, seasonal, and possibly including sprinkles in my vision of a “cheery,” celebratory hot chocolate. I say none of these things, instead I make another joke, something about “does anybody ever really say no to whip cream?”

To make a long story only slightly shorter, suffice it to say I drove way, sipping a venti hot chocolate that had the weirdest flavor I couldn’t quite place. 

It was, I believe, cherry. Without whipped cream.

I laughed.

So very cherry...I mean CHEERY

I guess you had to be there.