Dad Is Fat

by Jim Gaffigan

I felt I had to write down my observations about you in a book. And also for money, so you could eat and continue to break things. By the way, I’m sorry I yelled so much and did that loud clapping thing with my hands. I hated when my dad would do the loud clapping thing with his hands, so every time I do the loud clapping thing, it pains me in many ways. Most of the pain is because that loud clapping thing actually hurts my hands.

The most frightening aspect of “family-friendly” is that it means other families will be present.

No matter how hard you try to be a good parent, you always know deep down that you could do more.

As a dad, you are Vice President. You are part of the Executive Branch of the family, but you are the partner with the weaker authority.

What I’m trying to say is, dads are getting better. Either that or we are all slowly being turned into women. At least that’s what my gynecologist thinks.

They are trying to lose their shoes. That’s why they are taking them off. The only consequences are for you. You will have to get them a new pair of shoes.

Playdates are great for kids and most often incredibly uncomfortable for me, given my general dislike of human beings.

When I go for drop-off or pickup, I’m usually the only parent in jeans wearing a baseball cap. I probably look unshowered because often I am.

I always point out that prior to the invention of the house, camping was a tradition in everyone’s family. I don’t get camping.

There is no training camp for being a parent. No special school and no daddy doctorate degree. I try to learn by observing other people, but parenting just seems to come easier for them. My wife is no exception.

I suppose it’s ironic, after all the public toddler meltdowns, that my children will someday be embarrassed by