My dad always told me there wasn't a problem he couldn't fix.

And he was right. Every time I had one, he'd just tell me a truly awful dad joke, and suddenly, my problem felt a little less overwhelming... and I felt a lot more loved.

I got my dad a brand new, ultra-high-tech smart grill for Father's Day, thinking he'd love the precision.

He just stared at all the digital controls, then looked at me and said, 'So, does this thing also tell me when the propane tank is empty, or do I still have to shake it?'

My dad told me he wanted a very specific Father's Day gift: something that would help him maintain optimal home comfort.

So I got him a sweater, and he said, 'Perfect! Now I can finally turn the thermostat down even lower without anyone complaining.'

My dad always claims he's completely immune to 'dad jokes' – says they're too predictable.

So for Father's Day, we spent the whole day telling him our best (worst) ones. He groaned and rolled his eyes at every single one, then leaned in and whispered, 'Those are the only bad jokes I actually love... because they mean you're still trying to make me laugh.' Then he tried to tell us one and completely messed up the punchline.