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| Mom |
My mom and her father love puns. They also play with their hair. Naturally, my cousins, my sisters and I all play with our hair. My sisters and cousins also indulge in the pun habit. For the most part, puns elude me.
I attribute it to being grounded in reality and far too literal, but I cannot effortlessly find alternative meanings in words. At gatherings, over plates of brats and Grandpa's legendary potato salad, family would throw puns around like tennis balls. I would sit quietly and muddle over a word in an attempt to come up with a tortured word play. But before I could throw mine in the mix, someone else would use my word - only they'd use it better! The celebration of puns, however, is something I partake in with enthusiasm.
Grandpa started it. On March 4th he and my mom would wish each other a "Happy Army Day!" Do you get it? March 4 = march forth = Army Day (I warned you it was bad). After my mom moved out, she and Grandpa would call each other on March 4. It became a joke between them to see who could call whom first. When I was little, I thought March 4 was a nationally recognized holiday. Obviously, one of the hazards benefits of homeschooling is growing up with your own holidays.
