The office dad joke calendar plays an important role in my life

 

Creature of habit that I am, I follow essentially the same routine every day when I arrive at my office.

Once I put down my stuff and fire up the laptop, I take the salad and anything else from my lunch that needs to be kept cold and haul them to the refrigerator in the nearby kitchen. There I also grab myself a cup of coffee (always black, always my second cup of the day).

Then I walk back to my office, open up OneNote and Outlook, and glance to the right at the bookcase where I keep a combination of knickknacks and business books. Resting on top is my 2023 Dad Joke Desk Calendar.

It is with no small degree of anticipation that I tear off the previous day's joke to see the hilarity awaiting me. Invariably I will read the latest quip, chuckle to myself, and say something like, "Well that's dumb...and funny."

And then I go about my business a little happier and, importantly, armed with yet another horrible joke to tell.

I don't have many bad days at work, so I usually arrive in a pretty good mood. Still, the Dad Joke Calendar always manages to lift that mood a notch or two, if only because they try so hard. As my former News-Herald colleague and longtime Facebook friend Darrell Dawson points out, they sometimes bold a key part of the punchline to make sure you get it.

This is either insulting or hilarious. I'm not sure which.

I've had many different types of desk calendars over the years. Once I had a Jeopardy calendar filled with daily trivia questions I always enjoyed. But I'm not sure I've derived more satisfaction from a time-keeping tool than I have from the Dad Joke Calendar.

I desperately hope they're planning a 2024 version.

What will the kids say about you when you're gone?

Here's a good thing to do every once in a while if you're a parent:

Stop for a second and imagine you're dead. (I know, I know. Work with me here.) Now picture your kids sitting around and talking about their memories of you. What will they say?

"Remember how he couldn't fix stuff except maybe computers? Man, he did not get the handyman gene AT ALL."

OK, fine, guilty.

"He told Dad Jokes. He didn't think they were Dad Jokes, but they were."

Yeah, sorry, but I really did think my jokes were funny.

"And he made up that toad song on the guitar."

This is true. I don't play the guitar, but I do know how to pluck out an E-minor arpeggio, which I play in the background over a short set of lyrics I wrote about a guy who meets a wise toad. I'm not kidding. It's a classic.

"When we were little, he used to wrestle with us. And he played those songs on the computer that we would dance to."

Do they remember all of that? I hope so. I sure do.

"Why did he get so mad when he played board games with us and we would knock the pieces over?"

BECAUSE IT WAS FRUSTRATING. I TOLD YOU OVER AND OVER, "DON'T KNOCK THE BOARD!" WHAT PART OF THAT DIDN'T YOU GET?

"I thought it was weird that he built those model rockets. It's like he used us as a cover. He just wanted to build and launch those rockets, and spending time with us was his excuse."

Inside every man is a 12-year-old boy. That 12-year-old boy manifests himself in different ways. In my case, it's launching model rockets into the sky and seeing if we can recover them. Oh, and also snickering any time anyone says the word "duty."

"He was a strange guy. But he loved us. I always knew he loved us."

Even if they don't say that, I hope they know it's true.

Anyway, while we're still alive, we should realize what influence we have over those future around-the-table conversations among our children. What you say and do now affects how they grow, how they think, and how they remember their upbringing. Not a bad thing to keep in mind.