When exactly does it happen? When does a young guy, the cool Uncle, suddenly ingest a repertoire of terrible jokes? Have you had this experience? The groan inducing puns and potty humour are relentless and seem to come from the same writers as your Dad’s bucket of puns.
I would go so far as to say that in a bid to entertain and shock his nieces and nephews, the Uncle will go even cornier than their Dad. It must be a competition between Uncles and Dads resulting in a race to the bottom of the humour food chain.
Do you remember when Uncle Walter was actually cool? He was that guy who came to family gatherings on a motorcycle with some chick in tow and we all loved him? He let us have sips of his beer, or gave us money for candy when our Moms weren’t looking. He would sit at Thanksgiving dinner and tell ribald stories that would make Grandma cuff him on the ear. That was the Uncle we knew and loved.
Then something happened. No motorcycle, then a nice wife, maybe a few kids and BAM, the vault of dumb jokes opens and seems bottomless.
It starts with pretending to steal your nose. Tripe, but entertaining. Then he starts pulling quarters out of ears. That is when you know the transformation from cool to corny has begun in earnest.
At this point, it is absolutely ok to roll your eyes in response. They don’t actually expect a laugh, but a groan seems to be reward enough. It encourages them to go all in. Then they bring out their “A” list jokes like this gem:
A ham sandwich walks into a bar and orders a beer. Bartender says, ‘Sorry we don’t serve food here.'”
Oh and this one:
“Why did the Clydesdale give the pony a glass of water? Because he was a little horse!”
And the punning! Where do they get this material?!?
My sister bet that I couldn’t build a car out of spaghetti. You should’ve seen her face when I drove pasta.
You get the point. I won’t subject you to more, and if there are Uncles reading this, I don’t want to give them any more bad material. In any case, the jokesters laugh like nobody is listening, which generally we aren’t.
So to the Uncles who entertain themselves with their own jokes I say this: We love to pretend your jokes are terrible, and we love that you and our Dads find yourselves the Laurel and Hardy of silly fun, and most of all Uncles, we love you.