Comedy is in my genes. My dad used to say: "There's nothing so terrible that can't be laughed at." And he would laugh at the most horrible things – including his own Alzheimer's. He found Alzheimer's hilarious. I'm not kidding you – I've always thought his was an interesting philosophy. Once he got sick, instead of calling it Alzheimer's he would call it "Old-Timer's disease". I would go: "Dad, you're making a joke?!'" He'd say: "What can you do? You can't bloody do anything about it."

I can be described as many things but no description of me is complete without saying "Englishman". My parents were from Liverpool and emigrated to Canada before I was born. We also have Scottish heritage. My relatives were railway workers and miners. So my mother's total acceptance of the bounty that came to me is hilarious. The first time I took her to the Emmys, she was greeting people as if she was Her Majesty the Queen: "Nice to meet you. What do you do?"

Dad adored laughs and appreciated the giggle in everything. He was very funny and a massive inspiration. My grandfather was the same.

Dad loved movies and I grew up with British comedy. My ultimate favourite is Peter Sellers. I loved the Ealing comedies, Monty Python, Alec Guinness. It's true that Englishness, comedy and otherwise, is a very big part of my life: and there's nobody more English than an Englishman who no longer lives in England.

The Cockney rhyming slang in Austin Powers was inspired by my dad. He picked it up in the army. He'd often come out with this stuff. You'd hear him talk about crossing the frog [frog and toad, road], or going up the apples and pears [stairs]. I felt ripped off when he got Alzheimer's. Little by little, I was losing the one person I wanted to see what was happening to me.

My mum is a certified English eccentric. She has just turned 84, and she is absolutely unique. She'll say anything that's on her mind. She has theories about everything and doesn't worry about being wrong. Bunny [mum] gave me whimsy and unpredictability and chaos and the courage to go out on a limb, which is all part of my creative process. When my unbelievable explosion of success happened, my mum sent me tube socks for Christmas. I laughed for 25 minutes. Tube socks! She told me, "Well, I just figured that with all that's going on, you might forget to buy them."

My parents taught me to do whatever makes you happy – follow your bliss. That's why I don't make a lot of movies. I'm very meat and potatoes when it comes to work, putting in eight hours each day. I only do what I love. I love making things. I've taken up oil painting. Right now, I'm kind of obsessed with Colonel Sanders, the Kentucky Fried Chicken founder, who I've painted in about 15 settings. There's no chicken in the paintings.

I would love to be a father. I think I'd be good at it, but I like just being a person. Don't forget to take time to be a person and do the things that make you happy. Don't get so caught up in the career thing. It's never going to nourish you. It's not, in the end, what matters. On my death bed I'm not going to say, "God I wish I did more movies." I'm perfectly happy I was present for the ones I did.

Shrek Forever After is in cinemas from 9 July

• The photo caption to this article was amended on 5 July 2010. The original stated that Mike Myers is American. This has been corrected.