If comedy were physics, timing would be gravity: the invisible force holding everything together and stopping jokes from floating off into deep, awkward, silent space. Deliver a punchline too quickly and a joke finishes prematurely. If it comes too late, your audience has already mentally vacated the space. But if you get it just right, there’s a kind of comedic resonance, like hitting the exact frequency that shatters a window, or in this case a person’s composure. Take, for example, my wife.