A Special Sense of Humor

My dad was a very quite reserved person, a man of few words, but that reserve camouflaged a wry sense of humor.  Rather than sing us to sleep, he would threaten to sing if we didn't go to sleep at night! His favorite song "Cranky Poodle" had humorous lyrics and a loud clap at one point that always surprised those who heard it for the first time: "Cranky Poodle bit my pa, cranky poodle done it, if there'd been a prize for runnin' fast, my pa would sure have won it!" Singing this song to a young cousin of mine who was riding in the front seat of the car next to him, Dad let loose of the steering wheel and clapped his hands together once very loudly while singing.  My cousin's eyes were wide with surprise and fear that the car would go off the road. 

Dad was in a play in grade school, a one-room schoolhouse out in the country.  His character had a very long name which he would rattle off many years later that we never could catch in its entirety:  Johonnas Hubbard Lubbard something something something Van Slackamore Jones.  He would quickly slide the words by when we were not prepared, so we never figured out what the middle part was.  His teasing smile and the twinkle in his eye let you know that he enjoyed this game, and he always won.  We never did catch all of it.  Mom made him promise to tape it so it would not be lost to posterity forever, but we cannot find the tape.  I am sure he is smiling as us even now.

The birthday spanking ritual was another of his favorite escapades.  All of us, cousins included, knew that we would get a birthday "spanking" from Dad.  He would put the birthday boy or girl over his knee and ask how old you were and then begin to give gentle swats for how many years old you were.  However, he would always stop part way through and ask again, "How old are you?" which meant he had to start over.  Then he would loose track of how many swats he had given you and have to start over.  The end result meant that you received many many more swats that you were years old.

Dad enjoyed wrestling on the floor with the younger kids.  My brother and sister would try to wrestle him, but he always managed to get them wrapped in his arms or legs. My sister was famous for squealing, "I can't breathe, I can't breathe!" when he would have her legs or arms pinned against the floor. Years later he wrestled with his grandchildren in similar fashion.  Everyone loved the fun of trying to be stronger than Dad or Grandpa.

Dad loved telling a good joke and was very effective with the punchline.  At one family gathering there was a tape recorder going during the dinner.  There were multiple conversations all muddled together, but everyone was silent when Dad spoke.  He did not talk a lot, but when he did, everyone wanted to make sure they heard what he had to say. Dad was a man of few words, but he made them count and enjoyed the result.