EDITOR’S NOTE: John Cena is ALIVE AND WELL, so before you go and call the authorities on me, remember that the title of this blog is merely a joke. Okay? Okay.
My kids have never watched a single minute of a WWE match. They really have no clue who John Cena is, or what he does, or really anything about him, but over the past week, my 7 year old slowly and maliciously killed him.
I consider it part of my job to tell jokes. I tell them in real life, I tell them in my blog, I tell them on Twitter, I tell them on Facebook, and sometimes, I even tell them to my kids. They might not know who John Cena is, but they know of him because he’s become a popular internet meme, and I spend a lot of time on the internet, and they spend a lot of time with me. It was inevitable that they’d eventually discover his theme song.
Allow me to enlighten you if you are unfamiliar:
Yeah… look, I know. Not all jokes I tell I am proud of, but ANYTHING can be John Cena. Anyone can be John Cena. You can win a game and yell BA BA-NA BAHHHHH! You can sneak past a corner and yell YOU CAN’T SEE ME I’M JOHN CENA BA-BA-NA BAHHHHH. Someone says “See you later!” and … well… you know the perfect response.
For some reason unknown to me, it works. And it’s kinda fun. And it makes me giggle. Actually, scratch that–it MADE me giggle.
Although I’m mildly mortified that I repeat such silly garbage, it’s not the repeating of the joke that is the issue, here. It’s repeating it in front of my kids. And then, when they didn’t understand the joke, showing them the above video.
Anyone own a time machine?
The first time Parker did it, it was funny. He used it in the right context, with great timing. Who wouldn’t be impressed? The second time, albeit mildly less amusing, still got a chuckle from me. The seventeenth time in the same day and I’d had just about enough.
NO MORE JOHN CENA IN THIS HOUSE. That meant for me, too. This was my fault (and Thomas’s, if we’re being 100% honest), and I needed to take responsibility. Lead my example and all that good shit.
But Parker wasn’t done. He wasn’t to torture us some more. We’d made the mistake of laughing not just once, but twice. ALRIGHT, FINE, MAYBE I LAUGHED THE THIRD TIME, TOO! For the next week, we got John Cena- waterboarding style. Slowly, yet continually, until we broke.
Went to the bathroom? JOHN CENA BA BA-NA-BAAAAAHHH!
Put his snack back in the closet? BA BA-NA-BAAAAAHHH!
Scared the crap out of his brother? YOU CAN’T SEE ME, I’M JOHN CENA! BA BA-NA-BAAAAAHHH!
Got his underwear on the right way on the first try? BA BA-NA-BAAAAAHHH
Farted so loud it rumbled the couch? JOHN CENA!
Just randomly, out of nowhere, for no reason at all? JOHN CENA! BA BA-NA-BAAAAAHHH
That was it. I couldn’t take another BA, or NA, or BA-NA BAHHHHH.
“Enough! No more John Cena! You killed it! You killed the joke! John Cena is dead!”
And THAT is how my 7 year old killed John Cena. A ruthless, senseless act of violence. On my brain, my patience, poor John Cena himself, and humor in general. It isn’t even the first time, though. Or the second… or tenth.
The day he murdered knock-knock jokes is one I won’t soon forget. It weighs heavily on my heart.
So, before you tell your kid a joke, or really ANYTHING funny–stop and think “Is what I’m about to say REALLY that funny?” If the answer is no, don’t tell them. If the answer is yes, you must THEN ask yourself “Funny enough to hear 5,000 times in the course of the next 72 hours?” I’m pretty sure your answer will change to no. If it didn’t…. leave that joke in the comments, because it’s obviously one we all need to hear!
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Hard pass from me pic.twitter.com/VayvW1eopK
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