Dad Humor

One of the best parts in the beginning of our relationship with our kids is when they cuddle up in our laps and want us to tell them a story.  For the first few years they believe that we almost walk on water.  We get the coffee mugs, t-shirts, b-day cards with glue and glitter, plaster of paris hand prints, and everything you can image that has "World's Best (or Greatest) Dad" embossed on it.  Not just as mementos, but because those mini-humans that started out as just a twinkle in our eye, actually believed it.

Then it happens...our clever and funny jokes, the ones that would get them to laugh for hour upon hour...the ones they'd ask us to tell over and over...now become spoken words where the only response is a deep groan.  Our on-stage monologue of funnies has now become "dad humor."

I think I first cataloged in my mind that I had reached the honorable level of "dad humor" one afternoon when I made a joke in a department store (a really funny joke I might add) and my daughters' first reaction was to look around to see if anyone heard me, or to her, if she needed to be embarrassed.  From then on it was a toss of the coin on whether my jokes would illicit a laugh or a groan.

How is it I can think I am soooo funny that I could financially support a small third-world country if only I took my humor on the road, yet those rug-rats turned soon to be tweeners can only roll their eyes?  And now,  with those youngin's ranging from mid-30's to 21...I thought I could over come them with my wit via Facebook.  Didn't happen.

My sweetie and I frequently view their "Walls."  We've been informed now that it is better known as "creeping" on them.  I'll view a post, a pic, a link...and without even giving myself a moment to reflect I find myself commenting with the first thing that comes into my mind (which is a scary place to begin with).  "Oh My God" I exclaim.  They are going to think I am so clever and funny!  But soon, after those comments of wit are met with "huh?", "you are so weird", "what are you talking about?", or even worse they hit the little "x" and delete it all together! I guess that third-world country will have to wait for indoor plumbing.

There will be a day when their kids, grandkids, nieces and nephews will do the same thing to them.  It is then, after my ashes have been returned to the earth, that they will finally laugh at my jokes and realize how funny I was.  But that is okay, somehow I'll know it, and it will be enough.