I have inherited many wonderful traits from my father. Including my inherent desire to run a joke into the friggin' ground. I have to work REALLY hard to fight the urge. I fight it every day. EVERY DAY. It is painful.
On the off chance that I actually manage to say or write something that is well received by my audience, my first instinct is to keep the joke going. Like, forever. Even though I know it won't work the second time, because it NEVER works the second time. But I almost feel like I need to take it further.
Sometimes I cave and I just go with it. This is usually followed by a lengthy period of shame, in which I replay the moment over and over in my brain. Usually in slow motion. If it was actually recorded, I bet you could pinpoint the exact moment where I realize just what I have done. The look on my face probably reads something like, "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh no." (Yes, with that many h's.)
The only reason I'm writing this now is because I'm trying to distract myself long enough to make me forget about doing it again. Because I want to. Right now. I won't, because in my heart I know that the beautiful little joke I crafted last night deserves to stand alone in the spotlight. The follow up joke would only serve to tarnish it.
But seriously. It is killing me. KILLING ME.
1 comment:
I know how you feel. I still have to fight the urge to use "OY VAY" as my go-to exclamation because someone laughed at it once really hard and it went to my head.
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