"That's why he was fired from his job as a…"

Given that I set up this blog in response to the ubiquitous idea that Dads are a bit rubbish, it's odd that I’ve become obsessed by that celebration of Dad rubbishness, the classic Dad joke. A roll of the eyes, a groan, a tut, an ‘awww, Dad!’ – I’m in heaven!

I think it’s because I believe every awful joke I tell my boys is doing good. Just as Dads tend to push the boundaries in play and risk-taking, I like to think that’s what I’m doing with jokes. By telling jokes that are clearly pretty awful, I’m modelling how not to do it and by implication how to do it! I firmly believe my children are growing up being way funnier than I am, at least in part because I’ve shown them the ropes in a groan-inducing way. Children should simply be bathed in humour… As Roald Dahl wrote, ‘a stodgy parent is no fun at all. What a child wants and deserves is a parent who is SPARKY.’

Why do Dad jokes take the form they do? Well, consider genuinely good jokes. 

“I went to the library and asked for a book on Pavlov’s dogs and Schroedinger’s cat. They said it rang a bell but they couldn’t say if it was there or not.” 

Now there would be no point telling that to an 8-year-old. So lots of historical and cultural references are out, as are sexual innuendo (e.g. ‘How does Mr Miyagi relax? Whacks off’), or anything too rude or gross. What are we left with? "What do you call a nervous Jedi? Panakin Skywalker."

That’s not to say you can’t try to introduce them to new concepts and vocab in Dad joke form. My favourite joke, because I genuinely made it up (unlike all the others which I pinch), is this: 

"I had a dream the other night that I was going to get wet on a camping trip. Must have been a portent." 

You have to explain the concept of 'portent' to them, but surely anything that tortures a joke to within an inch of its life merely improves it?

But this post is mainly about a developing interest in another form of Dad joke – jokes about Dads. For example, there’s a whole genre of jokes that include the line ‘That’s why he got fired from his job as…’:

My Dad always said to fight fire with fire. That’s why he got fired from his job as a fireman.

My Dad would never call a spade a spade. That’s why he got fired from his job in the casino.

Or there are jokes related to your Dad’s career path:

My Dad was a clown; those are big shoes to fill. 

My Dad’s a coffee taster for Nescafe. I don’t know how he sleeps at night. 

My Dad invented windowsills. Total ledge.

My Dad spends all day every day crushing fizzy drinks cans in the recycling plant. It's soda pressing. 

That kind of thing.

Why don't you tend to hear 'My Mum was a…' jokes? Is it simply down to traditional gender roles in terms of who is the breadwinner? Or is it to do with hapless Dads having the broad shoulders to take being the butt of the joke all the time?

I would really love to hear your thoughts on Dad jokes, and your own examples – get in touch on Twitter @DadPrideBlog and @jonmsutton

Darth Vader and Son / Vader's Little Princess

I popped into a bookshop in a grey and drizzly Loughborough yesterday and was cheered considerably by a little book called 'Darth Vader and Son'. In postcard form, Jeffrey Brown imagines Darth Vader as a Dad like any other - except with the baggage of being a Dark Lord of the Sith.

Apparently there's also a follow-up, 'Vader's Little Princess', in which Darth faces the trials, joys, and mood swings of raising his daughter Leia as she grows from a sweet little girl into a rebellious teenager.

Star Wars and Dads - what more could I want?

The fatherhood / the motherhood

You may well have seen these videos, ads for a new Fiat.

As is often the way, the 'Motherhood' one is better.

Some Comic Relief

As it's Red Nose Day here in the UK, I thought I'd point you to the two funniest things I've seen about fatherhood this year.

Firstly, Stewart Lee. The clip below isn't about fatherhood, but it's genius. It's taken from his 'Carpet remnant world', which is well worth getting hold of. In his usual style, he does a painfully extended but extremely funny routine about Scooby Doo style jungle canyon rope bridges, because all he does these days is watch Scooby Doo with his young son. 'I've got nothing,' he repeats apologetically. 'I look after my 4-year-old son, and I drive round the North Circular'.

Secondly, this from Phil Jupitus is just phenomenal. Not safe for work, but you just have to watch his account of his daughter's first 'sleepover' with her boyfriend at Phil's house. The final straw comes when beer (or, more accurately, 'dog lager') appears in Phil's fridge. 'BECAUSE I IMAGINE THAT HANGING OUT OF THE BACK OF MY FIRST BORN IS THIRSTY WORK!'

Sometimes I'm glad I don't have daughters.

Dad jokes and the psychology of humour

I have struggled to focus today, because on the way to work I made up a joke that I am ridiculously pleased with. Drum roll, please:

'I had a dream that I was going to get wet on a camping trip. Turns out I was right - must have been a portent.'

Now I'm not saying that's good; in fact, the complete opposite. I shared it on my Twitter feed, which kind of specialises in bad jokes, and my friend and psychologist Chris French immediately responded 'that is truly awful – go to your room!'

The really funny thing is that that was the desired response: I like a groan more than a laugh! That is particularly the case with 'Dad jokes'. I tell my kids jokes as often as possible, and the worse they are the better. Is it just me, or when you tell your children a joke do you actively want them to think it's rubbish?

Why do Dads do this? Why do we seek out and tell rubbish jokes in order to reinforce the stereotype that we're a bit rubbish? Why does nobody talk about Mum jokes – what would a 'Mum joke' even be?

(If you're interested in the psychology of humour, look out for the April issue of The Psychologist, which is going to be a comedy / laughter special. But be warned that American author E.B. White once said: ‘Humor can be dissected as a frog can, but the thing dies in the process, and the innards are discouraging to any but the pure scientific mind.’)

Unfortunately my effort isn't suitable as a Dad joke, because for most children (and, let's face it, many adults) it would mean explaining what 'portent' means. 

So what makes the perfect 'Dad joke'? I would suggest:

- it's simple

- it's short

- it references something in their lives

- it's not very good.

Against those criteria, I think it's difficult to beat this one:

'What do you call a nervous Jedi? Panakin Skywalker'

…but I would really love to hear your Dad jokes.

Of course, kids' jokes are something else entirely. There's some interesting research on the form they take, but to me most seem to be along these lines:

'Why did the chicken cross the road? Because he was being chased by the Poo Monster!'

Check out this site if you don't believe me.

UPDATE: Another example of classic Dad humour… if I'm in the car with the boys and we see an ambulance, I will always, without fail, say 'You're not going to sell many ice creams going at that speed'. It stopped being funny about 237 times ago. In fact, the boys would probably argue that it wasn't funny the first time. But I will never stop saying it, and I suspect that when they are Dads they will do exactly the same. Is this the best wisdom us Dads can pass down from generation to generation?

UPDATE TWO: Those nice guys over at Dadsaster have pointed me to Dad's Bad Jokes.  It has terrible jokes for every occasion, for example when driving past some black and white cows, 'Boy it must be cold out there, those cows are Fresian!' 

UPDATE THREE: Also, maybe worth including my three favourite jokes that I tell about my own Dad, which are:

I'm sure wherever my Dad is, he's looking down on me. He's not dead, just very condescending. 
My Dad did a lot of his talking with his hands, if you know what I mean. That's right, he was a puppeteer.

My Dad was also a clown and he wanted me to follow him into the business… but those are big shoes to fill.

 

Are you the 'black cloud Dad'?

Last night my wife and I had a rare night out to see the fantastic comedian Russell Kane at De Montfort Hall. Pretty much the whole show was about having kids – rather unexpectedly given that he's not got his own, and slightly disappointingly given that I was hoping for an hour or so not assessing my own parenting.

But this bit certainly got a chuckle of recognition…

‘When I say I’m the opposite to [my Dad], I don’t mean to disrespect his memory and stuff, I just mean emotionally. He couldn’t have got more stuff wrong if he tried. It’s the male curse: I’ve inherited this gene, like most men in the room, the "one thing happens, the whole evening is shit" gene. The tiniest thing, down comes the mood. 80-90 per cent of men carry that fucking gene. Do you think we want to be like that? We don’t want to be like it. We can’t fix it.

Maybe women have the gene, but they seem to have better access to this sentence: "Oh, I know we were late today, but we did get to the gig in the end. I’m sorry I lost my temper: can we just have a nice night now? I’ve managed to emotionally regulate myself." Whereas admit it guys, most of you in the room: "The M1’s fucked, we’re going to miss the show, whole night’s ruined!" Get there on time, it’s not ruined, we got to De Montfort Hall in good time, there’s time for a drink, don’t stress. "I know all that. But because I lost my temper for a short period of time, I’m now going to hang on to that mood and fuck up the rest of the night."

I don’t want to be that Dad, the black cloud Dad. I don’t want to be the black cloud man, let alone the black cloud Dad if I’m lucky enough to be one.'

Ring any bells with you?

'Be a man, make your own list'

Interesting take on fatherhood from Louis C.K., via @tomstafford

Slow down Mummy / Speed up Daddy

One of the sparks for this blog was a poem that has been widely shared on Facebook recently.

Slow down mummy, there is no need to rush,

slow down mummy, what is all the fuss?
Slow down mummy, make yourself a cup of tea.
Slow down mummy, come and spend some time with me.

Slow down mummy, let's put our boots on and go out for a walk,
let's kick at piles of leaves, and smile and laugh and talk.
Slow down mummy, you look ever so tired,
come sit and snuggle under the duvet and rest with me a while.

Slow down mummy, those dirty dishes can wait,
slow down mummy, lets have some fun, lets bake a cake!
Slow down mummy I know you work a lot,
but sometimes mummy, its nice when you just stop.

Sit with us a minute,
& listen to our day,
spend a cherished moment,
because our childhood is not here to stay! 

Rebekah Knight

Now I have no problem with this poem: it's an admirable sentiment, if perhaps (according to the Mums I have spoken to) a bit of an unachievable ideal.

But why do you never see 'Dad' versions of these poems? When I search for 'slow down Daddy', I just get a lot of tragic stories about drink driving.

As I am sure I'll find myself emphasising time and time again on this blog, I love my boys with all my heart and couldn't be happier with fatherhood and all that it brings. But I still can't help wondering what would a Dad version look like, if we take off the rose-tinted spectacles and view life through the cultural prism of crap Dadding? 

Maybe a little like this. I'm a little worried it doesn't scan.

Speed up daddy, there are dishes to do, 

speed up daddy, I need a big poo.

Speed up daddy, go out and earn more money,

speed up daddy, I'll be fine with mummy.

Speed up daddy, let's capitalise on your obsessional tendencies by tapping you for another collectible trading card game,

speed up daddy, let's wrestle and use you as a punchbag and then when you accidentally drop me on my head ensure you get the blame.

Speed up daddy, me and Mum are snuggled up underneath the duvet,

how about a full English, and a cup of tea wouldn't go amiss, eh?

Speed up daddy, put Capital FM on, even though you have an iTunes library of approximately 15,000 killer tunes culled from a period spreading across 7 decades and really could do an awful lot better than Rhianna's 'Shine bright like a diamond' or Olly Muir's 'Troublemaker' on constant repeat,

Speed up daddy, in this day and age it's not acceptable (quite rightly) to just bring home the bacon and then put your feet up in your favourite seat.

Speed up Daddy, you need to ferry me to a large variety of extra-curricular activities: cubs, gym, football and swimming,

and if you think you can have a lie in when you've got a hangover you've got another thing coming.

We do love you, Daddy, 

Just not as much as Mummy.

It's an inevitable consequence of spending more time with her in the early days,

I wouldn't worry about it.

UPDATE: Rebekah Knight very kindly wrote this special 'Daddy version' for us. I think we can all agree hers is better!