(Self-appointed. Certificates available on request. Results may vary. Any unusual smells are Bruce's fault.)
Dads. We fix things, find things, drive things, barbecue things, and fill the house with jokes that land perfectly — just not necessarily with our audience. The family may cringe. The family may groan. But deep down? They know. They absolutely know. You're welcome.
The Evidence
Go on then, try to argue with any of these. You can't. That's why I'm in charge of the Wi-Fi password.
When something breaks, Dad is there. Armed with a screwdriver he's had since 1987, a can of WD-40, and absolute conviction. The repair may take three weekends and a trip to B&Q, but it will be done.
*May occasionally make it slightly worse first
Before GPS, families were utterly lost. Dad invented the phrase "I know a shortcut" and has never once been wrong about it. The extra 45 minutes is called "the scenic route" and it was planned all along.
*Lauren and James used to ask "are we nearly there yet." They're adults now. They still ask.
Someone has to protect the family from heating bills. Dad monitors the boiler with the dedication of a NASA engineer. "Put a jumper on" is not a cruel decree — it is ancient, thermodynamic wisdom.
*Has never been cold. Not once in his life.
The family turn to Dad for all technical problems. He will ask "have you turned it off and on again?", spend twenty minutes reading the manual, and then fix it — usually by accident — while looking for the power button.
*Success rate: 78%. The other 22% required calling a professional (and not telling anyone).
Available 24/7, no booking required. Dad will collect Lauren or James from anywhere, at any time, and only mention it once. Twice, max. At Christmas. Every year for the rest of his life.
*Will use the occasion to impart one piece of unsolicited life advice. Non-negotiable.
Dad's jokes are a cultural institution. Yes, Lauren and James cringe. They always have. But one day — and this day is coming — they will tell the exact same joke to their own families and deny everything.
*The cringe is love in disguise. This has been peer-reviewed.
Once a year, Dad takes command of the barbecue and becomes a culinary genius. He may blacken the outside while leaving the inside technically raw, but the confidence is extraordinary. Karen has learned to bring back-up sandwiches.
*Apron is not optional. Apron is armour.
Every household needs someone to manage the atmosphere. Dad's contribution is, at minimum, consistent. Reliable. Occasionally audible from the next room. Officially Bruce's fault. Always Bruce's fault. Bruce accepts this with dignity.
*Bruce was outside. He was definitely outside. The timing was a coincidence.
Dad Capability Assessment
Compiled after years of rigorous self-assessment. No external input was sought or required.
Hall of Fame
Each of these deserves a trophy. Karen has declined to commission one. Dad is processing this.
Half the screws were left over. The wardrobe still stands. James supervised. Victory is victory.
Unverifiable. Unprovable. Bruce trotted in from the garden thirty seconds later and took the blame without complaint. Loyal to the last. Good boy.
"That's a robin." Reader, it was a robin. Lauren, James and Karen heard about this for three days. Star the cat was unimpressed.
Pulled the finger joke. At the dinner table. James was 22. Perfectly timed. Completely committed. Not a single regret.
She denies it. It happened. Karen witnessed it. The date is known. It will be referenced annually until further notice.
A cactus. Watered twice. Thriving. Karen bought it. Dad takes full credit.
Karen and James were in the car. It will never happen again. They know it. He knows it. The moment lives forever.
Star cannot speak. Star will not speak. But the look she gave — across the room, through narrowed yellow eyes — communicated everything.
The Good Stuff
Curated. Refined. Completely worth the groan. Press the button — you know you want to.
Family Reviews
We asked the family to leave honest reviews. These are the ones Dad let through moderation.
"Wonderful. Infuriating. Talks for twenty minutes when ten words would do. Cried at the John Lewis ad and then denied it. Blamed the dog for something I am certain was him — again. Would do absolutely anything for all of us, without being asked, without complaint. Three stars. The missing two are for the jokes and the gas."
"I'm an adult. I have my own life. I have my own flat. And yet somehow Dad still turns up with a toolkit, fixes something I didn't ask him to fix, and then tells a joke so bad that I — an actual grown woman — have to leave the room. Four stars. Don't tell him I said four."
"He did the pull-my-finger thing at my graduation dinner. In front of everyone. My friends. My girlfriend. The Dean. He committed to it. And you know what? Yeah, fine. It was funny. Don't you dare show him this."
Also Weighing In
We reached out to the full household. Both provided statements. One was enthusiastic. One was not.
"DAD. DAD IS HERE. DAD HAS FOOD. WALKIES? IS IT WALKIES? I LOVE DAD. DAD IS THE BEST HUMAN. He lets me on the sofa when Karen isn't looking — this is verified. Sometimes he blames me for things I absolutely didn't do. I forgive him immediately because he says 'who's a good boy' and I physically cannot stay cross. Five stars. Would recommend Dad to any dog. Ball?"
"I was asked to provide a review. I considered not responding. I provide food — he provides food, which is the minimum required to avoid consequences. He attempts to pick me up. I have made my position on this extremely clear. He was blamed twice this week for emissions that were not mine. I was in the kitchen. I would like this noted formally. The jokes are beneath comment. One star. I would give zero but the wet food is acceptable."
Wisdom for the ages
Before any journey over 20 minutes: oil, tyres, water. Lauren and James will sigh. You will feel like a god. One day they'll do the same thing. They'll claim they figured it out themselves.
Statistics confirm: if you tell a joke enough times to enough people, someone will laugh. That person may be you. It still counts. James laughed at graduation. Noted permanently.
Bruce is loyal, forgiving, and cannot speak. He is a gift. Use this gift wisely. Responsibly. Consistently. Bruce doesn't mind. He's a good boy. He deserves extra biscuits as compensation.
There is no such thing as too many tools. The garage is not full — it is a workshop. A workshop that is full. Karen disagrees. Karen is wrong about this one specific thing.
When you don't recognise a TikTok sound, a "situationship", or a band Lauren mentions, nod slowly and say "right." Credibility: maintained. James hasn't caught on yet. Probably.
The moment when Lauren or James buries their face in their hands — that is your legacy. In fifteen years they'll do the exact same thing to their children and ring you to say thanks. Possibly.