Dinner consisted of a strange amount of humor. Chiefly from William, it seems that there is a particular form of humor called ‘Dadjokes’ these are a kind of humor that is apparently only allowed to the elder men of a family. The privilege of the patriarch, it seems.

Such humor consists largely of puns, and often these jokes are repeated. When Fauve said ‘I’m hungry’ William replied…

“Hi hungry, I’m dad. Are you a guest of my daughter, Fauve? Is she joining us for dinner, you do look very much like her…”

There was a collective rolling of the eyes, a gesture of exasperation by both his wife and daughter, followed by Fauve exclaiming simply, “Dadu!” As if his title alone were a remonstration.

“In my study of human humor, I found considerable divergence in application. The leading theory among humans, that humor evolved as a release of tension after a misperception of danger, explained its structure. But it did not explain its social application.

William’s use of ‘dadjokes’ to tease his family could not represent danger or risk, however while I watched them talk, and watched the way Michael laughed when they laughed, I realized something. Humans use humor in wildly varying ways compared to other species who have some form of outlet for relief from misperceptions.

Some humans use humor as a kind of mask… not in the literal sense, but in the figurative. Recall what I said about human dishonesty. They use lies as social lubricant. Humor, it seems, is another of the same. A human in pain will use laughter to detract from that pain, either physical or mental. And when I say mental pain, if there is a species more prone to its own self torment than homo sapiens, I have yet to encounter it. Not by intent… usually.

But rather they suffer from such a myriad of maladies unheard of in the galaxy that it would take an eternity to track them all, or so it seemed. Humor is often used to ‘hide’ these maladies. A depressed human whose brain is failing to provide chemical releases required for happiness, or whose brain is actively making them depressed… requires care. Care in the minds of some humans equals weakness, and to avoid appearing weak, they will pretend to be happy, lying to themselves and the whole world, suffering in silence rather than admit what is sometimes perceived as a flaw of character. Human pride… it drives them to the stars, but it can be as delicate as cracked glass too.

Their propensity to use humor to mask this internal sadness rather than seek viable treatment is such that it is only in the last century or two, after a handful of prominent human warriors and comedians came forth to talk openly about their struggles that it is becoming more acceptable to not play with a mask of happiness.

It made me watch my host family far more closely when I learned of these things later.

Other masks of humor include disguising lust. The human propensity to procreate is such that almost anything but fedoras and bearded necks are used… or at least are used with some success in finding mates. Humor’s lubricating utility was such that it created relaxation in those who it was used successfully on, and thus it made the potential mate more comfortable and desire more time with the source of laughter.

I’d seen humor used by characters in fictions for everything from health betterment to smoothing over anger, and yet in seeing the patriarch of the household use his ‘dadjokes’ on his family matriarch and daughter, none of those other uses applied.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Which left one clear reason. Affection. Laughter in humans releases ‘feel good’ chemicals in their brains, and William clearly held a considerable amount of affection for his household. And his ‘dadjokes’ humor was one of the ways he socialized within his family unit. Strangely, his mate was similarly affectionate. Her physical touch to his hand or shoulder, and the little considerations such as preparing evening coffee and fetching dessert for the table were strong evidence of mutuality in bonding.

I say ‘strangely’ because pair bonding species, particularly social ones, are relatively rare.

When a creature is social, they are usually sexually so, with frequent matings in what humans would call orgies, and no singular tie to offspring, which are instead typically raised either by the mother alone, or by the whole community. In one species in sector C-137, beings bond serially. Mating for weeks until conception and then parting again.

Humans however, other than a profession referred to as ‘porn stars’ are not socially sexual, but rather bond as pairs or at most, with a small group with one singular reproducing male with a small band of females. The latter of which comprised a considerable amount of fictional media’s attention and was highly idealized, and almost always comedic.

But in the pair bonded household of the Walkers, familial ties of affection are not only expected to endure for life, but they are mutually reciprocated. And in all the course of that meal, none of them brought up my shameful flight from the waterpark. They went so far out of their way to avoid the subject that Rebecca didn’t mention what she did with Michael while there.

I however, felt my confidence growing while I looked down at the peach cobbler on my plate. It was the only peach one, the others were thick slices of chocolate with a fluffy white cream on top. Sensing my curiosity, Fauve spoke up, brushing back her long braided hair, she said, “You can’t eat chocolate, so you get this one. What, you thought you’d just sit there while we ate pie? She stabbed her fork into the chocolate pie slice and the metal clinked against the glass plate beneath the treat. No way. That’d be a dick move.” Fauve was a fairly direct girl, a trait I appreciated, and didn’t mince words.

Her father was quick to agree, “That would not be…” I saw that broad grin on his face that preceded every joke and braced myself, “peachy”.

Even across the divide of life and species, I groaned at that pun along with the others.

“So are we going to go to the water park again tomorrow?” I asked, to be honest, I knew the answer, I just thought it would head off any more puns.

“Water you talking about, of course we are, assuming you want to. I would never choose to be a wet blanket.” William answered, and it was only the roll of both Fauve’s and Rebecca’s eyes that let me catch that he had slipped in another pair of puns.

I had been defeated.

“I’ll pass. That ticket taker, the one in the wolf shirt, kept hovering around between the kidzone and the women’s changing area, he made me uncomfortable. I’m waterparked out. I’ll stay here with Michael, he got a little red anyway.” Rebecca said matter of factly.

William shrugged, “Eww. Yeah I don’t blame you. Maybe wait to go back until they fire that guy. I’ll put in a complaint for you when I get there, the turnover there has been high for years, he won’t last.” He reassured his wife and patted the back of her hand with the palm of his own in an absentminded gesture of reassurance.

Fauve chimed in a moment later, “I’d like to go, I might have to work for a few hours in the morning… if my lazy coworker doesn’t show up again.” She groused a little at that, a slightly sour look came over her face and she puckered up her lips as if a lemon had been suddenly forced into her mouth. Then added, “But I can take a lift from the mall to the waterpark and meet you later, in the worst case scenario at least.”

“Great.” William remarked and said directly to me, “Sundays are the quietest days there, so we might even get to do everything we missed yesterday. Sorry to pull you out like that, Bailey.”

“It’s OK… it's’ ah, fine, just fine.” I answered, kind of stammered a little, my ears flicked and my tail didn’t know whether to tuck itself or wag like it’d been electrocuted. William was protecting my reputation with his daughter, who didn’t know about how I’d had to basically run from what to them was just a good time.

Nobody had ever done anything like that for me, not ever in my whole life. And yet it had been done several times for me today alone. The reason for Professor Sxlith’s affection for his humans… was making a whole lot of sense to me now.