HA HA PUNNY

My mother has recently been doing some geneological research into her family, and has come up with some tidbits which I find illuminating regarding my proclivities in regard to humor. Here is the tale.

My great-great-great grandfather was named Thomas Vincent. A native of Kentucky and a veteran of the Civil War, he had a son. A creative and unique soul, he decided to shun naming the boy after himself, and instead called him Ditto. Ditto Shadrach, to be precise.

This gets better. Ditto grew up, and came to be known as Dit. My mother once looked it up in an old phonebook, and indeed, there he was, Dit Vincent, her great-grandfather.

I assume that Dit was as unique in character as he was in name, for it seems that he decided to one-up his dad. So when he was finally blessed with a son, he completed a joke 40 years in the making, and named the boy Harry.

So yes, from that day on, every Tom, Dit and Harry in my family has been cursed with a quirky sense of humor.

At least I come by it honestly.