Having recently experienced a wonderful Father’s Day 2026, I find myself exploring the idea of fatherhood. First, we know that dads are celebrated on Father’s Day, and on that day only. This is of course, promoted by Amazon and Home Depot, in a clear attempt to sell airpods and Ryobi electric chainsaws.
Blatant pandering in service of capitalism. Which is fine with me. I love capitalism, as well as being pandered to. And more than anything, I love my Ryobi electric chainsaw. It’s incredible. No gasoline to mix with oil, no pull-start. No loud two-stroke engine to aggravate my old man tinnitus. Just pure, silent cutting power. Thankfully, we recently had a big storm, bringing a giant tree branch down on my daughter’s fiancé’s car, so I was called upon to show up with my Ryobi 40V chainsaw to chop the offending branch into tiny pieces. The biggest problem in my life now is that I’ve run out of things to cut up.
But today, in the rosy afterglow of my day as a hero, the shine is off the apple. I’m back to work, returning to the low place reserved for dads in the socioeconomic hierarchy.
The true opinion our society has regarding fathers is revealed in the phrases used to describe dads. First example: Dad Jokes. A term of derision, a dad joke is a silly joke, a throwaway, often a pun. Here is an example.
Kid: I’m hungry.
Dad: Hi, hungry. I’m Dad.
Kid: Cease your juvenile mocking of my starvation and get me a bacon gouda sandwich and a Strawberry Refresher from Starbucks.
Why the hate?
The dad joke garners no respect because it is dumb. Which leads to the misconception that dads are dumb. Most of the time, we are not. The joke isn’t designed to be witty, clever, or insightful, It is clean, comfortable and known. It is silly, offering a relief valve from the pressure cooker of adolescent angst. As children mature, hopefully they will discover the healing power of silliness.
Next, let’s talk about the dad bod. Another libelous term, this refers to the spare tire carried by men in their forties and fifties as a result of countless hours sitting behind a desk in order to pay for Starbucks orders, follows by butts on bleachers at ball games on school plays. As fathers, we love fulfilling our duties, but they do come at the cost of Twizzlers stress-eaten and workouts missed.
Dad Aura
Rather than dad bods and dad jokes, why does nobody talk about impressive dad qualities? Like dad bank accounts? How about dad credit score? Or dad patience watching kids play soccer every Saturday. (That one isn’t me, my kids don’t play soccer. I assume this is because I did something wonderful and am being rewarded by the universe.) Or what about dad bravery killing that spider? Wait, I forgot. We aren’t allowed to kill the spiders anymore because that makes everybody sad. Now we must rely on dad skills to safely capture the spider and transport it outside, where it can lead a full life, writing messages into its web in an effort to save pigs from becoming bacon gouda sandwiches.
In conclusion, I’d like to leave you with my favorite dad joke.
Q: What’s brown and sticky?
A: A stick.
Until next Father’s Day, keep escorting those spiders outside!