Anybody who has ever tried to write any form of comedy will tell you that it is the best feeling in the world when you write a really funny joke.
I am incredibly pleased with my joke. It is a lightbulb joke!!! There are so few new lightbulb jokes. I check all sorts of combinations of the words on Google to ensure that nobody has written my joke before, and I discover that is totally original and funny!!! It is a slight twist on the traditional lightbulb joke angle, it is politically hard-hitting and contains universal truth. Hahahaha!!! I rock!!!
Anybody who has ever tried to write any form of comedy will tell you that the next stage is a waft of depression as you try and try and try to find some way of working your new joke into the fabric of life; be it casual conversation or an entry in an internet private secret diary. You rack your brains. You examine every situation from every angle. You try everything. It is frustrating.
I am still worrying away at this when I arrive to pick the Toddler up from her nursery.
“It’s a dad! A dad!” There is a cry from inside. It is two of the fit nursery assistants who are struggling with something and need my help. One looks over at me and asks – not one word of a lie:
“We can’t reach. Can you help us change this lightbulb?”
I am gobsmacked by this. I look at them, look at the light fitting, look at the lightbulb. There is some comedy god looking down on me. Not only will I get to tell my joke in the most natural and casual way possible thus making the fit nursery assistants collapse with fits of laughter and think ‘omg omg he has a sense of humour as well AND he can provide for me by being taller and changing the lightbulb’, but I will then be able to report the incident to the readers of my private secret diary as an amusing story AND shoehorn in the joke. I take the lightbulb from her gentle hand.
The lightbulb slides easily into its cavity whilst the girls watch on. I wait for my moment; the optimum time to tell my new joke. When you have unbelievable fortune, sometimes you can get carried away and blow it by ruining the timing. I push hard and twist in the bayonet. They clap, in a girly way.
I open my mouth. There is a knock on the glass door. Another parent turns up.
All hell breaks loose as a small child hurtles in to the foyer and grabs the centre for attention. I try to continue: “neo…” but the moment is lost. Booooooooo – I will never get a chance like this again to tell my funny new joke. I collect the Toddler grumpily and drive home, looking for dark buildings.