Michael McIntyre has a brilliant joke on how people get confused when it comes to changing the clocks forward or backward an hour. No one’s quite sure when it has to happen, and no one really knows how to go about it. I think we can all agree that this is a universally understood pickle.
It starts off with a warning given by your mum a week before. She somehow always knows. As her knowledge on ironing and washing machine functions and fabrics is encyclopedic, so too is her awareness of this abstract horological science. How does she know?! Where does she get the information from?! She doesn’t even know how to use Google!
But it slips your mind in any case, until the eve of the hour, where you find your whole family running around in a commotion and you’re suddenly conscripted to change any clock you can find in the household. You are clearly unfit for this task, but once you’re handed your first clock, you’re not sure if you have to turn it an hour forward or backward. But you don’t want to reveal your incompetence, and in a state of panic, you even forget how to tell the time.
Then your mum spots you struggling with it, and takes a moment to turn into Hermione Granger to re-explain it to you.
You don’t really get it anyway, but you just stick to the one clear instruction that makes sense: Go an hour forward/backward…
And then you have to figure out how to work the damn cogs, which you’ll probably break and make the whole clock fall to pieces.
Then you’re told that you’ll get to sleep for an extra hour.
Unless you’re in March, in which case you’ll be sleeping for an hour less. I hate you, science.