With two teenage daughters, I usually find myself six months to a year behind in trendy stuff. I use Instagram and not SnapChat, I listen to Pandora and not Spotify, both resulting in me being “old school” to my daughters (wait until I pull out an AC/DC 8 track).
To entertain myself I’ll occasionally threaten to wear skinny jeans and an extra small t-shirt and walk them into school. In my 13yo’s eyes I’m a fashion disaster anyway and she wouldn’t care — the 15yo would be horrified and likely need therapy.
After a brutal week which also included four Crossfit workouts I was nursing an ice cold ale on the couch and my 13yo daughter simply said as she passed by, “go easy on that beer, I don’t want you to get a Dad Bod.” I glanced at Joe the dog, and asked “wtf is a dad bod?”
Of course with most things they throw at me I have two great resources — my wife who is a profound interpreter and, of course, Google.
Ran a quick search and low and behold — Dad Bod is a thing.
The mecca of hip Urban Dictionary had me laughing (think ab workout) out loud. I especially loved this:
If human bodies were cuts of meat, the dad bod would skew more marbled rib eye than filet mignon; or, if human bodies were sea mammals, dad bod would be more like a grazing manatee than a speedy dolphin. The dad bod is more mudslide than mountain, more soft serve than sorbet, more sad trombone than clarinet, more mashed potato than skinny fry. The dad bod is built for comfort.
Of course the overlay of humor does mask some of the dangers of a Dad Bod and we see a lot of it — former athletes that have seen their physiques slide over time. Dad Bod could lay the foundation for other nasty things like obesity, diabetes, heart disease and hypertension.
As endearing as “Dad Bod” may appear it can be dangerous precursor. Say no to the Dad Bod.