Miscalibrated Internet Receptor Stalks
Miscalibrated Internet Receptor Stalks

I have exactly 17 minutes before officially beginning Thanksgiving Prep, and the family calls are starting to rev up.

I'm going to need reinforcement. The font of funny in our family was always my grandfather, a man who never found a head that didn't need an "egg" cracked over it.

Illustration for article titled Im Hungry! Lets Eat!

Remind me of all your favorite "Dad Jokes"—the ones you love to love despite your better comedic instincts.


Here's my favorite:

I come from a hockey family, and we've all put in our fair time working, playing, and generally inhabiting rinkworld.


My grandfather used to swing through, talking to *everyone*, and particularly loved camping out at the snack bar, nursing a cup of coffee.

Inevitably, some munchkin would approach and, eyes huge, order a heaping plate of corn chips and gooey cheese.


This was my grandfather's golden moment. He'd lean over and whisper conspiratorially, "You know the problem with nachos, don't you?"

No, the child would realize. No, what IS the problem with nachos?

"They're not cho's!"

Having successfully navigated himself to the very pinnacle of humor, Papa would then giggle merrily along with the kid, who inevitably found the joke hilarious, while the mother and I would roll our eyes.


Oh! I just remembered my other favorite!

"What did the fish say when it ran into a wall?"


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