When Dad asks you to keep a secret, you know its gotta be good. Check out these 13 heartwarming stories of dads bonding with their kids in the most hilarious ways.
Sometimes hump day is the best day…
“My dad used to drive me to my flute lessons across town every Wednesday evening. On our way back home every week, we’d stop at Baskin Robbins and he’d let me get a double scoop in a waffle cone and we’d sit inside, take our time, and talk. It was a really special thing since both my parents worked two jobs and had to chauffeur around two high school aged kids to various functions/activities. Getting to spend one on one time with either of my parents was a rare and fortunate thing. The thing was, they both worked two jobs because we weren’t that well off, so weekly stops at Baskin Robbins was a splurge thing and I wasn’t to tell my mom or my brother about it. Schedules flipped around about a year later and my mom was the one to take me to flute lessons and she’d always get good junk food from the gas station (easy cheese and wheat thins or potato wedges) and we’d eat in the car and talk. Neither parent knew the other spoiled me on Wednesdays.”
Always follow mum’s instructions…
“When I was about seven, my mum bought a cheap blender for the kitchen, it was one of those ones where the blending thingie points downward, you have to insert the jug from the front, and its design in such a way that you can basically put any old cup in there and it will still work. Mum was very strict in that we were not allowed to use just any cup, we had to use the special blender jug. Dad hated that thing because it was a pain to clean. Soon, the day came when mum was out, and I asked my dad if I could make a milkshake. He chucked all the ingredients straight into the milkshake cup and stuck that into the blender. I, being a bit of a snot, reminded him that we had to use the special jug, because Mum said so. Dad replied, that, ‘Well, Dad can do it this way, because Dad said so.’ Then he promptly turned the blender on and sent milk, chocolate, banana and ice cream splattering all over the kitchen ceiling.”
The ultimate movie night…
“My dad owns/is the president of a fairly large company he started right out of college. When I was young, he travelled internationally a lot still trying to establish the company. For a few years when I was probably 7-10ish, he was gone probably 15 days a month on average – sometimes more, sometimes less. My mom was pretty strict about what we were allowed to watch (movies and tv) up until I was about 14-15. So naturally, I would hear my friends at school talk about all the cool movies they watched and it sucked. One night my dad got home from the airport and told my mom that he had to go to the office to finish up some work and that he was going to take me with him since I hadn’t seen him in a few days. So we got in the car and started driving to his office. On the way, we stopped and got a pizza. Then he pulled into the block buster parking lot and went into the store. He came back out and put the bag in the trunk and said he had a surprise. When we got to his office, we went into the conference room and he showed me what he got at blockbuster: a 2 liter bottle of soda (which I wasn’t supposed to have), one of those huge popcorn buckets (mom didn’t want us to eat microwave popcorn either), and the first Pirates of the Caribbean (again, not supposed to watch that). So we had a movie night on the projector in the conference room with pizza and popcorn. We started doing that 2 or 3 times a month for the next couple years – pig out on junk food and watch movies that my dad wanted to see but my mom wouldn’t let me watch with him. To this day she still has no idea we did any of that.”
When dad pulls you out of school, don’t question it…
“One day in grade school, maybe grade 5 or 6, my dad came unexpectedly into the classroom early in the morning. He looked upset. He talked to the teacher for a minute, then walked over to me. He whispered, ‘look upset. We’re going skiing. Don’t tell your mother.’ Best day ever!! Thanks Dad!”
Impulse shopping is the best kind of shopping…
“When I was young my mom sometimes visited her mother for a week or so by herself. When she left, my father took us ‘impulse shopping’ at the grocery store and we would live for the week on whatever my dad, my brother and I picked out. I remember subsisting on liverwurst and gummy bears.”
Warriors don’t tell Mom…
“My dad was teaching me how to skate in our apartment’s parking lot and me, being the overly confident 9-year-old, thought it would be great to skate down the lot’s steepest hill. Dad encouraged, child approved. So I took the hill and I ate sh_t. Hard. Landed straight on my elbows and knees. Now, my dad didn’t believe in elbow and knee pads (and nor do I to this day because I’m stupid) but let me tell you, I was scuffed up pretty bad. Now here’s context…for years, after watching her daughter and husband get hurt by dumb sh_t, my mom hated any sign of what we called ‘fun.’ After rough checking for broken bones, I got out of my state of shock and started to weep softly at my bloody arms and legs. My dad thought I was okay to walk so we slowly walk up stairs to our apartment and my dad sits me on the steps. In slight horror and mass confusion, I watched this man take the blood off my elbows and knees and wipe it on my face (think Sylvester Stalone football player mvp style.). That was the only thing it took to shut me up because, ‘I was a warrior. And warriors don’t tell Mom.’ So I never told Mom.”
Taking a turn on the wild side…
“I was 22, had just graduated college, and was living at home while starting my first ‘real’ job. Being single, childless, and living at home, my living expenses were minimal and I saved a fair bit of money pretty quickly. I wanted to do something exciting, but didn’t know what. I’m not the backpack-across-Europe type, and I come from a rather…bland…family. A co-worker told me I should buy a motorcycle, but I knew my mom would never approve of it. So I waited until my parents were out of town one week, and bought a used Honda CBR 250. My mom hated it (now that I’m married with kids, she says it’s ‘irresponsible’ of me to ride such a statistically dangerous vehicle). My dad, however, had always wanted one in his younger years, but never done anything about it. He approved. One weekend not long after, my mom went on an out-of-town shopping trip with my sisters. My dad asked if I wanted to go do anything. I thought for a moment, and asked him if he wanted to learn how to ride a motorcycle. He got this silly/excited grin that I’d never seen before. And that is how my then-60-year-old dad learned how to ride a motorcycle.”
Flying monkeys and dinosaurs…
“When I was four or five years old, my mom wouldn’t let me watch ‘The Wizard of Oz.’ She was concerned that the flying monkeys would traumatize me, so she barred me from watching it. That’s why, while she was gone one day, my Dad and I watched a movie. Jurassic Park.”
That’s one way to learn how to drive…
“When I had my driver’s permit my dad was supposed to help teach me to drive. He had me drive him everywhere and teaching me consisted of him leaning the seat back, turning the radio on low volume, and napping until we got to our destination. I remember the first day it happened he just said, ‘I’m supposed to be monitoring you closely and keeping an eye on every move you make, but I’m tired. You’ll be fine. Just don’t speed. And your mom doesn’t need to know I’m asleep or she’ll kill us both.’ What dad doesn’t know is when my brother got his permit last year, mom’s way of teaching him to drive was the same concept.”
When Dad just understands…
“Back when I was at school I had a habit of lashing out at people who picked on me. Good for avoiding bullying after a few times, bad for having friends and not being called a psycho. Older boy came up behind me and poured a drink on my head. I responded by turning around and punching him repeatedly in the face. Devolved into usual schoolboy scuffling until he ran off after seeing a teacher coming. I got into trouble as he definitely got the worst of it, but got off the hook as he was older and had a history of bullying. Ended up just being sent home to my parents. My mum was at work and my dad was working from home, so he took the call and met me coming in. I was terrified what would happen (the times I’d fought before that my mum had come down on me hard, as she was the strict one), but the only conversation was ‘Did you start it?’ No. ‘Did you finish it?’ Yes. ‘Did he deserve it?’ Yes. ‘Let’s go watch TV. Don’t tell mum.’ Love that man.”
What Mom doesn’t know can’t hurt us…
“When I got out of the Navy, my dad, a retired cop, got me a job as a witness escort. Basically a security guard taking low-risk and low-reliability witnesses back and forth to court. On my third assignment as we entered the lobby of the witness’s apartment building, a guy steps up and shoots me with a 25 caliber handgun. He hit me in the bulletproof vest right under the left nipple. It felt like getting hit with a baseball bat. Fast forward several hours and my dad is picking me up at the hospital. My sport coat and shirt were taken as evidence so all I have to wear is my pants and an ice-pack held in place with an ace-wrap. He walks in and hands me a paper bag. Inside the bag was an identical shirt, coat and tie to what I left the house in that morning. When he handed it to me he said: ‘Don’t tell your mother!’ He bought me the outfits for the job and kept a set for just this reason. We protect mom. What she don’t know can’t hurt us.”
Who wouldn’t want baked beans and eggs for dinner??
“It happened a few months ago. My mother works as a nurse in a Danish insurance company. Sometimes she’s out getting patients who have been hurt and makes sure they come safely home to Denmark. Now, right after my final exam (physics and chemistry) in which I got an A, I come home to two lovely things: First, to the message that my mother is happy with my result but she was in the Caribbean getting a patient and second, to my father, who’s sitting in the kitchen with a grocery bag full of the sweets we usually buy in small quantities, ice cream, soda, chocolate, the works. We ended watching ‘Game of Thrones’ and enjoying burgers in our living room. My dad looks at me and says, ‘for all mother knows, we just ate the baked beans and eggs she prepared in the fridge.'”
Midnight fun…
“After several hours of failure and frustration and having to send me to bed half way through the set up, my dad snuck upstairs and woke up 11-year-old me just after midnight with the simple phrase, ‘I got the new Playstation working! Come and have a go, but shush, your mum is in bed!’ First game we booted up was Alien Trilogy. THOSE GRAPHICS MAN!”