by Andy Simmons
The nightclub owner asks, “What happened?”
The manager says, “That’s his mother. She wants him to be a doctor.”
Office Christmas Party
Obstacle: Nagging boss, crabby clients, looming deadlines…If unemployment didn’t pay so badly, you’d choose it as a career. You work so hard none of your coworkers have gotten a chance to know you. This is your one shot to shine.
Goal: Since office parties are all about booze, that means one thing: a bar joke.
Joke: How many drunks does it take to change a light bulb? Twenty-one. One to hold the light bulb and twenty to drink until the pub spins.
America’s Funniest Family Stories
“I come from a stupid family. During the Civil War, my great uncle fought for the West.”
I can relate to that Rodney Dangerfield quote. While my family is my greatest source of pride (my grandfather stormed the Argonne Forest with only a slingshot and a nasty attitude!), they’re also my greatest source of embarrassment (he did so wearing a pink tutu).
A few years ago, I dared our readers to share their funny tales about cranky kids, witty spouses, dim parents, and anyone else who made them fall out of the family tree laughing. Here are my favorite submissions. As you’ll see, they broke down along subject lines that positioned them and their loved ones in a certain light.
My Family Is Helpful
My thirteen-year-old nephew thought his gangsta outfit—low-riding pants and exposed boxers—made him look cool. That is, until his five-year-old cousin took notice.
“Nathaniel,” she yelled out in front of everyone. “Your panties are showing.”
—LINDA McLEMORE
It rained in Phoenix for the first time in what seemed like eons. So when my wife and I took the car out, she was more nervous than normal.
“You are an excellent driver,” she assured me. “Just beware of the other idiots out there.”
—STEVE JACOBS
When my father ran out of gas, he called my mother to pick him up in her car. They went to a gas station, filled a gas can, and returned to his car. After a few minutes, he got back into her car again. “We need to go back to the gas station,” he said.
“One gallon wasn’t enough?” she asked.
“It would have been if I’d put it in the right car.”
—KENT T. CRITCHLOW
While doing a crossword puzzle, I asked for my husband’s help.
“The word is eight letters long and starts with m, and the clue is ‘tiresome sameness.’”
“Monogamy,” he answered.
—DONNA VAN NOTE
I knew that my husband’s hearing had deteriorated after our friend—new to the city—asked where he could meet some singles.
“Well,” said my husband, “I see them in the Kmart parking lot diving for fries.”
“Dear,” I intervened. “Singles, not seagulls.”
—REGEN ROSE
My Family Is Philosophical
In fourth grade, my son had a huge crush on a classmate. So for Valentine’s Day, he bought her a box of chocolates and took it into school. When I returned home from work, I found him on the couch eating the same box of candy.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Well, I thought about it for a long time,” he said between chews. “And I decided that, for now, I still like candy more than girls.”
—KYM LOKKEN
My sister is a know-it-all who bristles at anyone’s well-intentioned advice. But when our older sister gave her several clever tips, she was impressed.
“I have to hand it to Pat,” she told me. “She really is smart. Not Jeopardy! smart; more Wheel of Fortune smart.”
—TERESA BRUCE
After my daughter sat glued to the TV set for most of the day, I told her, “Do you know that the average American spends more hours per day watching TV than the average Olympic athlete spends training?”
She replied, “What’s the point of all that training if no one’s going to watch?” —DAVE KOLACZ
“When I married Donna, I could get both hands around her waist,” said my husband’s grandfather. Pointing at his full-figured wife, he boasted, “Now look how much I got. That’s what I call an investment!”
—KATHERINE EBY
En route to church to make his first confession, my nervous seven-year-old grandson asked me what he could expect.
“Confession is where you tell all the bad things you’ve done to the priest,” I told him.
He looked relieved. “Good. I haven’t done anything bad to the priest.”
—DOUGLAS MATOOK
My Family Is Inquisitive
My three-year-old grandson was attending a birthday party for a friend when the friend’s father sneaked off to take a shower before work. Halfway through, the father heard a tapping on the shower door, followed by the sight of my grandson peering in. Looking around the stall, he asked, “Is my mom in here?”
—BILLIE CREEL
At the restaurant, a sign read KARAOKE TONIGHT!
Grandma studied it before asking, “What kind of fish is that?”
—GAIL COLLIER
The photo in the newspaper was of a squad car parked next to a small airplane that had made an emergency landing on a highway.
My fifteen-year-old daughter was impressed: “How did that cop get the plane to pull over?”
—DONA PIERCE
As we drove, a road sign warned: SURVEY CREW AHEAD.
“Great,” my wife whined. “Now what are they going to ask us!”
—DANIEL GIANGIULIO
Our friends Dave and Kristen have a precocious three-year-old. One day, Kristen chided Alayna for calling her by her first name.
“Stop calling me Kristen,” she said. “I want you to call me Mommy, not Kristen.”
Alayna looked confused. “But Dave calls you Kristen.”
—BELVA HUMBLE
My Family Is Insightful
After she tripped and hurt herself, my sister filed a lawsuit. While she was being deposed, the opposing attorney asked, “Since your injury, is there anything you cannot do now that you did before the injury?”
“Yes, I can’t ride my bicycle anymore,” she said.
“And why is that?”
“Because it has a flat tire.”
—BRYAN HUGHES
I found my young son sobbing into his pillow after his pet toad died, so I reminded him, “It’s not the end of the world.”
Through his tears he blubbered, “It is for my toad.”
—MICHAEL GESSEL
My wife’s family was cooing over our newborn when someone mentioned that the baby looked like me.
“Don’t worry,” said my mother-in-law. “She’ll change.”
—RAY OST
The morning he began kindergarten, I told my son about the great adventure that awaited him. “You’re going to learn so many things,” I said, “like how to read and write!”
When I picked him up from school later, I asked how it went.
“Well,” he said, “I still can’t read or write.”
—DEBBIE CRISS
My Family Holds Grudges
After learning that her parents were in a minor car accident, my wife called her mother. “What happened?” she asked.
“I was driving and fell asleep,” said her mother, irritated. “And of course, your father wasn’t paying attention!”
—GUY LAMBERT
My husband used to work the night shift, so in the evening my five-year-old would climb into bed with me. One night, my husband came home early. “That’s my wife,” he joked. “Get in your own bed.”
“Fine,” grumbled our son, as he stormed off. “When I have a wife you can’t sleep with her, either.”
—KATHRYN BUCHERT
While playing Scrabble at my future in-laws’ house, I asked my soon-to-be wife, “Is ‘nag’ a word?”
As my father-in-law walked by, he answered, “In about six months it will be.�
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—MATT HILBURN
“He’s going to beat me up!” yelled my four-year-old.
“Why would your brother do that?” I asked him.
“Because I accidentally dropped his toothbrush in the toilet.”
“Just tell him and give him a new one.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“He’s in the bathroom brushing his teeth.”
—KATRINA STANFORD
My Family Is Practical
At day care, my four-year-old watched as a teacher pulled something hot from the oven.
“What’s that on your hand?” he asked.
“An oven mitt,” she said. “It keeps me from getting burned. Doesn’t your mother use them?”
“No, my mom’s just really careful when she opens the pizza box.”
—JESSICA DODGE
“Sorry your card won’t arrive in time for your birthday,” my sister said to me. “I bought a belated birthday card, so I had to wait a few days before mailing it.”
—LINDA LEE
A gorgeous white convertible pulled up next to our parked car. “How did that woman get such a pretty car?” my daughter asked.
I recognized the driver and said, “Her husband’s a pilot. He must make a good salary.”
“That’s what I want to be,” she said.
“Really? A pilot?”
“No, I want to be married to one.”
—JEREMY JAMES
Shortly after Dad retired, my mother asked him, “What are you going to do today?”
“Nothing,” he said.
“That’s what you did yesterday.”
“Yeah, but I wasn’t finished.”
—BEVERLY SHERMAN
I was on the couch nursing my newborn when my three-year-old plopped down to watch. Seeing this as a good teaching moment, I explained how mothers feed their babies. My daughter’s eyes grew wider with each detail.
“She’s drinking milk?” she asked. “In the living room?!”
—BEVERLY FRIEND
My Family Is Clever
I was not thrilled with the idea of letting my clueless thirteen-year-old son babysit his younger sisters, even though he begged me to.
“What about a fire?” I asked, referring to my number one concern.
“Mom,” he said, rolling his eyes, “I’m a Boy Scout. I know how to start a fire.”
—JO WALKER
After she fainted, my mother was raced to the hospital. Her doctor asked, “Why do you think you passed out?”
Looking at him oddly, Mom replied, “Because I woke up on the floor.”
—JEFFREY WARD
Over dinner, I explained the health benefits of a colorful meal to my family.
“The more colors, the more variety of nutrients,” I told them. Pointing to our food, I asked, “How many different colors do you see?”
“Six,” volunteered my daughter. “Seven if you count the burned parts.”
—ALLISON BEVANS
Our three-year-old daughter was making up a poem when she asked us what rhymed with stop.
My husband said, “Think of something that’s cool and refreshing, but that Mom and I don’t let you drink.”
Our daughter knew the answer: “Alcohol!”
—JUDY BERKSETH
My Family Is Upbeat
My two sons, Jake and Austin, are a handful. So I wasn’t surprised that Dad looked frazzled after we took them to a football game. “It will be a cold day in Hell before we come to another game,” he muttered.
“Did you hear that?” Jake shouted to Austin. “Grandpa’s going to take us to a game in December!”
—DREW SPECHT
At age seventy, my grandfather bought his first riding lawnmower.
“This thing is great,” he bragged to my brother. “It took me only an hour and a half to mow the lawn. It used to take your grandmother two days to do it all.”
—DIANE HARDY
“Everything’s starting to click for me!” said my father-in-law at dinner. “My knees, my elbows, my neck…”
—KATHRYN SEIFERT
The sight of my mother cleaning her dentures fascinated my young son. He sat riveted as she carefully took them out, brushed and rinsed them, then popped them back in.
“Cool, Grandma!” he said. “Now take off your arm.”
—BARB SIPE
My Family Is Tactful
A customer at a coffee shop was clearly peeved by the text message he’d just received. “You ever have that ex-girlfriend who just won’t go away?” he asked his friend.
“Yeah,” came the reply. “My wife.”
—JAMES BAVA
When my wife was a teenager, she desperately wanted to wear makeup. Her mother said no, so she appealed to her father.
Ever the diplomat, he reasoned, “Well, if the barn needs paintin’…”
—LONNIE BURGER
A fourth marriage meant yet another name change for me. I didn’t realize the upheaval it had caused until I asked my father why I hadn’t heard from him in awhile.
“I forgot your phone number,” he said.
“You could’ve looked it up in the phone book.”
“I didn’t know what name to look under.”
—CAROL MARSH
My Family Is Loving
My sister, a religious woman, lives in a small, conservative community with her husband and basset hounds. Knowing how much she adores those dogs, her husband bought her vanity license plates.
My sister’s pleasant surprise turned to horror when she took the plates out of the box and read BSSTLVR.
—CATHY HEIZELMAN
My daughter loved the picture frame her five-year-old son bought her for Mother’s Day. She found a photograph of him and replaced the cat photo that came with it.
Landon became upset: “Why are you putting a picture of me in there when I bought you a picture of a cat?”
—LORI FEENEY
The day I knew my in-laws had finally accepted me:
As we pulled into their driveway, my father-in-law was on the phone. “Oh, I have to run,” he told the person on the other end. “My daughter-in-law and her husband just arrived.”
—KATHY DIERKER
Stand Up? Sit Down!
It’s not too intimidating for an aspiring performer to wait his turn for the stage at the Comic Strip Live, the renowned comedy club in New York City.
The walls are plastered with photos of previous acts—guys named Carlin, Rock, Sandler, Chappelle. Jerry Seinfeld’s scorecard when he auditioned for a spot is up there, too. He passed.
As I imagined my picture up on the wall, a thought crossed my mind: Am I nuts!?! What am I doing trying to follow these guys? My eyes darted toward the front door. There was still time for me to run screaming from the club. Then I heard it—my intro from the emcee, a stranger to my act: “Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together and welcome a very funny man, Andy Simmons!”
I gulped for air like a largemouth bass on a hook. Then I headed toward the stage. It was showtime!
When I first walked into the Comic Strip eight weeks earlier, I was a carefree man there to take a few comedy classes. My classmates were an eclectic group. There was Glen, a social worker and Orthodox Jew; Andrew, a former Marine who saw action in Somalia during the Black Hawk Down days; Christopher, a gay Mormon who honed his comedy playing the role of peacemaker in his family; and Mike, who is deaf and has cerebral palsy and a speech impediment.
Our teacher was D. F. Sweedler, a veteran comic who has appeared on Letterman. He told us that over the next two months we would create a five-minute act, which would culminate in a performance onstage before an audience.
“Where do we find our ideas?” someone asked.
Everyday life is fodder, he told us. Family, relationships, fears. “Anything you would tell a psychiatrist. Anger is always a good source. Even if it’s petty, make mountains out of molehills.”
This worked for
me. What I lacked in talent, I more than made up for in anger. My problem might be quantity over quality.
Working with my anger, I wrote a rebuke of an outrageously expensive restaurant I’d just gone to. Here’s a choice snippet: “Rule number one: If a restaurant has a sommelier, you can’t afford it. After my meal I realized that if a restaurant serves food on a plate rather than in Styrofoam, I can’t afford that either. The restaurant is a converted barn. So when our stable boy hitched us up to our trough…”
“What are you talking about?” D. interrupted during the second class. “No one knows what a sommelier is.”
“A sommelier is…”
“Yeah, I know what a sommelier is. But no one else does. And if this is a nice restaurant, why are you hitched to a trough?”
“Because it’s funny?”
The following came at me as if shot from a Gatling gun: “Too detailed…overwritten…not clear what’s going on…too fast…not funny…no…throw it out…someone else get up there…”
“It’s all about the joke,” D. implored. “Get in and get out. Whatever you don’t need, cut. Rework this bit. Try making it more relatable.”
“We’re not still at the restaurant, are we?” D. asked when I took the stage the next class.
“I’m afraid so,” I said.
Poor D. I could see his spirit leave the room.
During the previous week I’d gotten rid of any mention of sommeliers and feeding troughs. Instead, I worked on making the skit relatable. So I opened with “Who here eats food?” Silence.
I soldiered on. I’d given my expensive restaurant a name: Le Second Mortgage. I then went on to say, “I ordered the octopus. Or to quote the menu, ‘An inkling of octopus served with a rumor of shiitake mushroom, bathed in a notion of seaweed and a suspicion of asparagus.’ In other words, I ordered an empty plate.’”