“Just let it out.”

It’s a line I’ve heard from my father more times than I can count, usually as I scrunch up my face, squeeze my eyes shut and clamp my nose, producing little more than a pathetic squeak as I desperately try to stifle a sneeze.

Easy for him to say. When my dad sneezes, subtlety goes straight out the window. First comes the dramatic gasp of air. Then, a ferocious “achoo,” accompanied by a full-body recoil.

It sounds less like a sneeze than a scream — and routinely sends the dog scrambling.

My dad, it turns out, is in good, if very loud, company.

As a kid, my colleague Rachel Sacks would yell “earthquake” whenever her father…

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