Nobody finds Papa funnier than Papa

Some people think dad jokes are childish. Others consider them insensitive. As a father of three girls, I know my jokes take a toll on them. But I persist regardless, because dad jokes are a serious matter for me.

Dad jokes are adventure

Being a responsible parent, I’ve had to accept some constraints on risk-taking. I’ll never know what it might be like to be in the French Foreign Legion, or to be a cave diver who discovers new lifeforms in the earth’s bowels. Having children put paid to all that, life insurance coverage notwithstanding.

“What should I do for adventure?” I’ve wondered. I tried gardening, but my plants died before they could give me any excitement. I contemplated birdwatching, but I couldn’t find any research on what thrills birding might deliver.

As I leaned into my fatherhood identity, I realised that dad jokes promised the adrenaline I craved. I know it’s at my family’s expense, but I reckoned that’s a small price to tame the Indiana Jones in me. And lest you think dad jokes are a lazy substitute for real peril, you don’t know my family or my audacity.

I poke fun at the dullards my daughters date, warning them not to give me dull grandkids. I sense #3 daughter pausing midway while making a point, and I brazenly offer to mansplain the rest to her.

On morning commutes, I crack sleepy/grumpy jokes. When receiving exam results, I declare that “unless it’s straight As, it’s too much effort to remember your grades.”

I’ve encroached on their social media; they blocked me. I continue on Whatsapp; not blocked because that’s how they ask for money.

I’ve trained my instincts to spot comedy in every moment. I let my gut guide me when to push, when to inhale, and when to run for cover. I test how far I can tease a room before someone walks out. Yes, I’ve overshot and been humbled. And I mean really humbled, not the LinkedIn version.

This adventure ended well (Image credit: PPP)

Dad jokes let me escape from being dad

Being a father is tough. And it’s not about having to provide for the family because that’s straightforward. Rather, it has to do with the codes and expectations the world imposes. Some of these are clear. Most are murky.

Do I like assembling Ikea furniture? Those darned Allen keys are clearly made for more delicate hands. Yet, I’m expected to put a 500kg wardrobe together, guided by a wordless instruction manual that repeatedly mocks me.

Am I qualified to provide IT support? Nobody cares. Any issue remotely electrical or tech is my problem. I’ve become adept with the on/off switch.

Is it my fault that I couldn’t nurse my babies because I lack the right anatomical appendages? No elaboration needed here. PM me if you don’t get the picture.

These, however, are trivial struggles when compared to the ultimate family poisoned chalice: playing good cop to mom’s bad cop. Would I willingly choose that cameo ever? Does it seem like I have a death wish?

Dad jokes let me escape from fatherhood through the boyish mischief of getting under my daughters’ skin. Lovingly, of course. The jokes allow me to package affection in annoyance. Or maybe it’s the other way around. I never know the difference. It’s all funny to me.

Dad jokes connect me with my feelings

Corporate life demands emotional control and a cool head. I spent years enslaved to that. Were it not for dad jokes, I would have grown the nerves of a cold-blooded assassin by now.

Dad jokes let me laugh at my own jocularity. That keeps me sane. And when I say laugh, I mean I really laugh… ROFL hysterical kind of laughing, all while my family just groans. My hysteria becomes fits, and the fits morph into teary convulsions.

Psychologists say that strong emotional bonds are formed when people allow themselves to be vulnerable to each other. I shed tears with every dad joke. Can one get more vulnerable than crying?

Dad jokes honour what matters

Everyone loves and celebrates mothers. I’m all for that. Moms deserve our adoration. The lavish champagne brunches that hotels roll out every Mother’s Day are truly something to behold. Unfortunately, that makes things tragic for dads, because moms are an impossible act to follow. Every June, I meekly surrender with cheap prosecco.

Mercifully, I still have dad jokes to acclaim me. Selfishly, shamelessly, and all year round. Because dad jokes = me the creator, me the provocateur, me the star. As my daughters exclaimed when previewing a draft of this article: “It’s amazing – Even when Papa’s making fun of us, he’s talking about himself!” #1 daughter was even more astute: “Nobody finds Papa funnier than Papa.” Bless their genes.

Yes indeed, dad jokes are all about me. In fact, they would be the perfect self-endorsement but for this tiny wrinkle – the jokes work only when there’s an audience.

Without my family, their groans, their eye rolls, their forced composure, I’m just a middle-aged man in an empty room.

The jokes may be on me, but the love is always from my family.

They are the only audience that matters.

And they show up for me every time.

Happy Father’s Day everyone. Praise God 🙏.

(Image credit: PPP)

*************************

I am a leadership coach. I help leaders and organisations succeed through good leadership practices. Because good leadership matters.