Day 352

Since becoming a father, I’ve tried to improve my dad jokes. I’m not there yet but I can say my dad bod is in full effect. Though my dad jokes aren’t perfect yet, I still have plenty of material to work with.

I have been told that I have a playful personality. I think that is a nice way to say I am either immature or constantly a goofball, but I’ll take it. I especially like to joke around with children, both in the classroom and at home. One of my go-to’s is to joke about where we are going when we head out in the old minivan. I usually say the porta potty hall of fame or the dumpster museum. While this is usually met with multiple groans, the kids do seem to get somewhat annoyed when I don’t give them one of those ridiculous answers.

Even if they do hear the terrible joke, the punchline continues as we travel to our destination. If I see a dumpster, and I mean literally any dumpster, I’ll ask the children who’s going in. They usually point the finger at each other but I’ll give them credit, they have started saying it’s me. They are getting wiser.

I do something similar when we see a porta potty. In fact, on our way to our grandma’s house, we actually go by a yard that is always completely full of portable toilets. It happens to be adjacent to a landfill so dump trucks and dumpsters are everywhere. To most people it is a stinky and undesirable place. To me, it’s a breeding ground of terribly wonderful jokes.

We’ve had the opportunity to have a dumpster on our property a few times to clear out some of our farm treasures. We’ve also had porta potty sightings on the lots next door to us as houses are being built. Again, most people don't take notice. My kids and I definitely do.

This joke culminated when we went to dinner and saw a nearby business being remodeled. Out in front, we saw a dumpster and porta potty together. For the kids and I, it was a match made in terrible joke heaven.