Spring dad jokes are a warm, seasonal joy for the paternal. After months of slogging it out through cold, snow and winter dad jokes, it’s time to turn over a funny new leaf, right?

That’s why we searched high and mostly low to find the best, funniest, silliest dad jokes of the vernal season. That includes a few April Fools’ Day laughs and even a St. Patrick’s Day giggle that you can spring on unsuspecting children, adults and, of course, enemies of the pun. Enjoy without worry — these have all been spring-cleaned for your kids’ protection. 

If you need some non-seasonal yucks, check out our musical dad jokes for some laughs that sing!

Best (and worst) spring dad jokes, riddles and puns

Q. What does your winter fat turn into?
A. Spring rolls.

Q. What’s the best place to plant flowers at a school?
A. In kinder-garden.

Q. How excited was the gardener about the arrival of spring?
A. So excited that he wet his plants.

Q. How did the tree feel about spring?
A. Re-leafed.

Q. What’s Irish and comes out in spring?
A. Paddy O’Furniture

Q. Which superhero likes spring the best?
A. Robin.

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A family of moles awakens from hibernation.

The father mole pokes his head out of the hole and says, “I smell tulips. It must be spring!”

Then, the mother mole pokes her head out of the hole and says, “I smell cherry blossoms. It MUST be spring!”

The baby mole tries to squeeze between his parents but gets stuck and says, “All I smell is molasses.”

A few April Fool’s Day dad jokes

Q. What’s the best day of the year to monkey around with your friends?
A. Ape-ril Fool’s Day.

Q. Which monster is the best at playing April Fools’ Day jokes?
A. Prankenstein.

Q. Why is everyone so tired on April 1st?
A. Because they just finished a long 31-day long March!

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Did you hear about the pregnant bedbug? She’s having her babies in the spring.

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Q. Why did the farmer throw his seeds into the pond?
A. He was trying to grow watermelons.

Q. What season is best to go on a trampoline?
A. Spring-time

Q. What did the seed groan after the flower told one too many spring dad jokes?
A. “OK, Bloomer.”

Q. What did the tree say to spring?
A. What a re-leaf!

Q. What is the best flower for a boy to give his mom this spring?
A. A son-flower.

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Did you see that the local mattress store is having a spring sale? Unfortunately, the rest of the bed is still full price.

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Q. What can you find in the middle of April and March but not at the beginning or end of either?
A. The letter R.

Q. Why did the farmer bury all his money before planting his spring crops? 
A. To make his soil rich.

Q. Why did the bucket bounce?
A. Because it was filled with spring water.

Q. What’s the difference between spring rolls and summer rolls?
A. Seasoning.

Q. What do you call a bear caught in a spring shower?
A. A drizzly bear.

Q. Why couldn’t the flower bud ride a bike?
A. It didn’t have any petals.

Q. What do you say when it’s raining chickens and ducks in April?
A. Foul spring weather.

Q. What did summer say to spring?
A. “Help, I’m going to fall!”

Spring dad jokes photo: © Africa Studio / Adobe Stock.

St. Patrick’s Day dad jokes for kids: You’d think a father with my name would have a slew of riddles, puns and other Irish jokes for his children that deal with this holiday?

Well, I do, even though my Irish lineage has long been in doubt. Are you green with envy … or did you just get sloppy with the food coloring on that last batch of beer?

So if you’ve enjoyed our previous holiday-themed, family-friendly dad jokes for children (Valentine’s Day being the latest, Easter dad jokes on tap!), then these gags about leprechauns, shamrocks and all things green will have you and your kids Dublin over with laughter. Erin go braugh, everyone!

Best/worst St. Patrick Day’s dad jokes for kids

Q: What’s Irish and stays outside your house all night?
A: Paddy O’Furniture.

Q: Why do people wear shamrocks on St. Patrick’s Day?
A: Because real rocks are too heavy.

Q: What do you call an Irish fairy who goes to jail?
A: A lepre-con.

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Knock-knock!
Who’s there?
Warren.
Warren who?
Warren anything green for St. Patrick’s Day?

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Q: Why can’t you borrow money from a leprechaun?
A: Because they’re always a little short!

Q: What do you get if you cross Christmas with St. Patrick’s Day?
A: Saint O’Clause.

Boy: Dad, I met an Irish girl on St. Patrick’s Day!
Dad: Oh, really?
Boy: No, O’Reilly!

Q: How do you pay for soft drinks on St. Patrick’s Day?
A: With soda bread.

Q: Why should you never hold a four-leaf clover too tightly?
A: You don’t want to press your luck.

Q: What do you call it when a flash mob’s Irish dance routine goes wrong?
A: A jig mistake.

Q: What did the baby leprechaun find at the end of the rainbow?
A: A Potty Gold.

Q: What did St. Patrick say to the snakes before he drove them out of Ireland?
A: “Everyone got on their seat belts?”

Q: What do you call an Irish jig performed at a fast-food restaurant?
A: A Shamrock Shake.

Q: What do you call a Dwayne Johnson impersonator?
A: The Sham-Rock!

Q: What do you call leprechauns who collect cans, newspapers and plastic bottles?
A: Wee-cyclers.

Q: How can you tell if an Irishman likes your joke?
A: He’s Dublin over with laughter.

Q: What do you call a tiny criminal with a skin disease?
A: A leper-con.

Q: What do you get when you pluck a four-leaf clover out of poison ivy?
A: A rash of good luck.

Q: What do you get if you cross a leprechaun with a frog?
A: A little man having a hopping good time!

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Knock, knock!
Who’s there?
Irish.
Irish who?
Irish you a happy St. Patrick’s Day!

St. Patrick’s Day dad jokes for kids / Irish sitter photo: ©Pixel-Shot / Adobe Stock.

With St. Patrick’s Day upon us, so comes the inevitable confrontation with my ethnicity. My name, as they say, is as Irish as Paddy’s pig. This, however, assumes Paddy stuffed his sow with kielbasa and sauerkraut and then drenched her in marinara.

My mom’s parents emigrated from Italy. My dad’s relatives, to the best of his knowledge, are German and Polish. Consequently, every March 17 of my childhood consisted of facing a table of corned beef boiled beyond recognition and green-tinted Carling Black Label, and devising new ways to conceal the stench of mushy cabbage under mashed potatoes, used napkins or assorted condiments. Not exactly material that has the Ancient Order of Hibernians clamoring for me to marshal a parade.

Without a true family tree of Killarney strawberries to root me, a few years ago I decided to start our own traditional St. Patrick’s Day fest, holding it the Sunday before the real day. I found a recipe to my liking after consulting with the culinary experts of Google: a meal consisting of rubbing down a big point cut of corned beef with brown sugar, cutting up some carrots, onions and red potatoes then simmering it all for 12 hours in a Crock-Pot amid a loch of that one staple of my presumed ancestors’ homeland that does regularly run through my veins – Guinness stout.

When the time arrived, I poured myself a shot of Jameson, put on a CD of Celtic songs and let my little clan dig in. Shockingly, the meat was incredibly good – sweet, tender and slightly intoxicating though not in the sense that feeding it to my kids would result in a knock on the door from Family Services.

My Love claimed it was the best corned beef she ever had. She also believes it was the first corned beef she’d ever had. It’s believable. She’s a Midwestern farm girl of an undetermined Middle European stock that has most likely never even tried Lucky Charms.

The children, however, hated it. Most belligerent was my son who pronounced it “HOR-rible” and “dis-GUST-ing.” Given his lawyerly tendencies for arguing and citing precedent, even at age 5, I’m surprised he didn’t make a case for us eating shamrock-shaped McNuggets. He might have won that debate because they are, like our family, Irish in name only.

I felt a bit wounded by his rejection of our imaginary heritage. If I, as a father, cannot provide my children with some sense of where they came from beyond “mommy’s tummy” or “the hospital” and what that means, am I really doing my job? How will my children learn about the value of the family bond, the strength of blood over money and the need to remember lest we forget?

Then I sobered up and concluded I was reading an awful lot into the dismissal of a slab of fatty red meat.

Still, the next day – on St. Patrick’s Day proper – my son greeted me with a reassuring surprise.

My boy, who is that rare type of morning person whose fits of groggy attitude could make Attila the Hun soil himself, came downstairs dressed for school though not in the clothes I had laid out for him. Instead, he had put on a pair of brown corduroy pants, a green sweatshirt and the oversized foam leprechaun hat his mom had brought home for him last year after a business trip to Dublin.

“And look!” he yelled as he stood in the kitchen just a few feet from the previous day’s scene of heartbreak and heartburn.

With glee, he undid the button to his pants and let them fall to the floor.

Underneath, he sported a pair of shiny, emerald green soccer shorts.

Erin go bragh, my wee little laddie. Erin go bragh.

A version of this first ran on Always Home and Uncool. Photos: Top – Photo: © anaumenko / Adobe Stock. Bottom – Kevin McKeever