a joke from my dad:
a cardiologist died and was given an elaborate funeral. a huge heart covered in flowers stood behind the casket during the service. following the eulogy, the heart opened, and the casket rolled inside the heart then closed, sealing the doctor in the beautiful heart forever.
at that point, one of the mourners burst into laughter. when all eyes stared at him, he said, “i’m sorry, i was just thinking of my own funeral…i’m a gynecologist.”
that’s when the proctologist fainted.
all of my life i was raised in a very catholic household. you know – parochial school x 12 years, church every sunday and holy day of obligation, fish on fridays and an ashey forehead once a year…can you imagine the day that my dad shared a dirty joke with his three grown-up children? he was laughing so hard, half from embarassment, half from the punchline not yet delivered. now add a filipino accent and a shocked mother not but two feet away. my side hurts just thinking about it. i know this joke is of the tame ilk, but anytime he tells a joke, i always think of that day.
does that mean i’m getting old?