I was riding a packed, not-so-fun airport train when I watched a dad perform a little magic. Right before the doors were about to open, he leaned down to his son, waved his hands like a magician, and said, “Swoosh.” The doors opened, and the kid looked up at him with an expression of wonder in a place that was anything but wonderful.
I used to do similar things with my own kids, saying “Everyday magic” right before an automatic door opened, using the “force” to turn up the music in the car, and changing the color of the traffic light, among other things. They were convinced I had actual powers. Dads, inside every ordinary day there are these 30-second pocket windows to perform everyday magic. No plan, money, or free Saturday required. Here are 6 ways to get better at being a fun dad.
1. Ride the ride.
When I drove my kids to preschool, we had a song. The same one, every single day. I had the hand motions down, the pauses in the right places, the part where I’d pretend to forget the words and they’d yell the next line at me as if I’d personally offended them. Years later, my kids still remember our songs word for word. Turn it up, sing it badly, do the hand motions if there are hand motions. Repetition is the magic, not novelty. Cars can be a capsule of fun and memories. Being a dad is tough, but seeing your kid in the backseat singing along to your song never gets old.
2. Tell the story.
A friend of mine has three kids under ten. At bedtime, he asks them questions, then feeds the answers into AI to write an adventure story starring them. Well played. But stories don’t have to be that high-tech. Make up something on the spot, let the story go somewhere ridiculous, and let your kid steer it if they want to. The plot doesn’t have to make sense. It just has to be told and heard by a dad and his kid.
3. Commit to the bit.
I used to play a used car salesman for my kids, stomach poked out as far as it would go, using a jacked-up accent, trying to sell them a used Chevrolet for no reason at all. My kids would laugh so hard they’d have to lie down. Years later, my son worked at a summer camp and had to invent a character for the kids there. He picked my used car salesman. I’d like to think that if you want to know how to be a fun dad, that story is proof it sticks longer than you think. This also covers the zero-reason costume: Put on the Halloween outfit in March. No occasion required. The bit doesn’t have to be good. You just have to commit.
4. Turn trash to treasure.
… Like the bag of chips you were going to buy anyway, but presented like it’s special. I used to bring home hotel key cards from work trips and hand them to my young daughter, telling her I’d brought her another “credit” card. She had a whole collection. To anyone else, it was a stack of used plastic. To her, it was proof I’d been thinking about her while I was gone. You don’t need to bring home something new. You just need to present something ordinary like it matters because to a kid, the presentation is half the gift.
5. Capitalize on randomness.
Hang Christmas lights in their room in July. Make breakfast for dinner on a random Tuesday just because you are crazy like that. Announce, out of nowhere, that tonight is Backward Night and everyone has to wear their pajamas backward. None of it needs an occasion, and honestly, that randomness is half of being a fun dad. In fact, it works better without one because the whole point is that your kid learns something can be fun just because you decided it was.
6. Catch the phrases.
Every family has (or should have) at least one phrase that means nothing to outsiders and everything to your family. Ours started as dumb TV or movie lines, something one kid couldn’t say plainly, or other random places. Twenty years later, and we are all still using them. You don’t have to invent out of thin air. Just notice when a phrase makes your kid laugh, and say it again. And again. And again, until it’s yours.
My kids are mostly young adults now, and everyday magic looks like a surprise gift card, key card (still!), or an unexpected Venmo that says go get yourself something real. These things seem to make them feel more loved than the tuition check does. Why? Because by then they’ve figured out that’s just how you’ve always shown up for them—in small, ridiculous, 60-second bursts, not in the big checks or the big trips. It’s in the swoosh, the song, the bit, the key card, the lights in July. Learning how to be a fun dad is never about the big ticket items. It’s about the swoosh.
Sound off: What’s one small, no-reason “magic trick” you do for your kids that they love?
Huddle up with your kids and ask, “What’s one silly thing we could do together right now, just because?”