Have a Gander at The Edinburgh Festival Fringe 2026 – ¡Ay! Papi: Jilberto Soto


¡Ay! Papi is an hour of stand-up about my dad, built around three moments he wasn’t fully present for: me winning a pageant in high school, my sibling’s wedding, and my own wedding, where he skipped out two days before. The through-line is that my father hates having his photo taken, so the whole show is staged around photographs that don’t exist. It’s a comedy show about a guy trying to be understood by someone who has spent his whole life avoiding being seen. IT’S FUNNY!

I’m always workshopping new jokes about my life on stage, that’s just how I write. This one started because I wanted to talk about marriage, about being seen as a sex symbol but not necessarily a husband. Then my dad didn’t show up two days before my wedding, and I couldn’t write about anything else. Every joke I tried to write turned into something about fatherhood. I kept trying to force it funny before I let myself write it honest first, my actual perspective, unvarnished, and then went back in and made it funny. That order mattered. Funny-first would’ve been a different, worse show.


Honestly? Nervous. I’ve got big hopes for this show and Fringe hands you so much hope at once that you almost want to protect yourself from it. I’m working on turning that protectiveness into excitement instead of dread.

Most hour-long shows about your dad end up being about forgiveness. Mine isn’t trying to get there. I’m not interested in tying it up with a bow, I’m interested in what it’s like to still be in it, to still not fully understand the guy, and to find that funny instead of just sad. And structurally, the show is built around photographs that don’t exist, which for a visual medium like theatre is a weird thing to build a set around, but that tension is kind of the whole point.


Yes, I’m Mexican-American, queer, married to a man, and the title does double duty because of it: “¡Ay, Papi!” is something you’d yell across a party, and it’s also just literally me talking to my father. That double meaning is the whole show in miniature. I

don’t think I could’ve written this without both halves of that identity sitting right next to each other.

That you don’t need the relationship to be resolved to write about it honestly. A lot of people are waiting for the conversation with their parent that fixes everything, and I want people to leave feeling like it’s okay if that conversation never comes, you can still build a whole, funny, honest life around the unresolved part.


Watching: my husband Bob, probably laughing the loudest at the parts that are actually about him. Anyone who’s ever tried to get their family to show up, literally or emotionally, and had to make peace with a partial yes. Who isn’t there: my dad. Which, if you’ve been paying attention, is kind of the point of the whole hour.

I get haircuts, no idea why, but it relaxes me instantly. A fancy dinner here or there. And working out, which is really the only time my brain shuts up and lets me just be a body for an hour. Show-wise, I’m catching my NYC friends, Meka Mo, Jenni Glorick and whoever flyers me hard enough, because I respect the hustle.



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