Dad jokes are a gift. And a curse.
In sword-and-sorcery stories, the hero almost always inherits a powerful heirloom to guide him or her through the story. While it’s usually a sword, it can be any number of powerful items, amulets, crystals, or whatnot. The item is instrumental in tying the hero to his or her rightful past, and helps him/her become the rightful king or queen, despite the hero being so sleepy all the time.
On account of a bunch of sleepless knights.
See, I inherited an ancestral heirloom as well. It is the ability to make Dad Jokes. And while I would trade it for a magical sword in 2-seconds flat (not to put too fine a point on it) I’d settle for a mystic epee (not to be confused with mystical pee).
But I have found that this ability gives me a certain status among Gen X dads.
Dad jokes are like those mating rituals between males in the animal kingdom, where they strut their stuff in front of each other and the women to try and get the chance to procreate.
Dad jokes among Gen X are like that, except you don’t get your arms ripped off by a rival male. And without the chance to procreate if you win.
Quite the opposite, in fact.
Dad jokes are a gift.
But that’s not important now. What’s important is that I can see the world through the coke-bottle glasses of my pop, and the world looks like one giant pun. I can’t help it. It’s a gift, and a curse. It’s a unique ability of a dad to state the completely obvious in such a way. Because we’re both apparent.
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| Get it? Apparent? Photo by May Gauthier on Unsplash |
I used to practice in front of one of those physician office skeletons, but it didn’t work when I realized I had nobody to impress.
I used to be able to tell the other Dads in German, but they were the wurst.
I tried to tell them when I was cooking dinner, but I felt like an impasata. Then I tried a recipe from Prague, and a Czech one too. A Czech one two…
I think you get the point.
It’s a gift that most dads start using as soon as their kids have developed the vital ability to groan in embarrassment.
Circling back to the fantasy analogy, I remember telling my son my first dad joke, during his bedtime story. I regaled him about King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table. Sir Lancelot. Sir Galahad. And the most important knight of all for a Round Table.
Sir Cumerence.
Dad jokes are also a curse.
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