For better or worse, I'm a veritable font of dadisms. If I had to guess, I'd say it comes with the territory as it is not something former me consciously notated as a future accomplishment for myself. That said, pretty sure I pre-date the term, though the idea behind it is notoriously ageless.
And I've had a few, most of which were created from that mother of invention, necessity. Like when the kids would rush to the driver's side of the car every single school morning for the entirety of their educational years, rather than go around to the passenger side. I'd dead-pan ask, "Have you ever seen this car before?" Yes, every single school morning for the entirety of their educational years. I guess I thought (hoped?) at some point they'd get tired of me asking. Of course they did, but that never initiated any meaningful change to their actions, so I'm at loss there.
Or the sing-song mantra oft-repeated in my household, 🎶 If its on leave it on, if its off leave it off, if its open leave it open if its closed leave it closed. 🎶 This lead to me to discover, much to my chagrin, kids freaking hate mantras, as it too, never initiated any meaningful change to their actions, other than an ability to eventually sing it along with me all the while rolling their eyes. That's something I suppose.
Surely the most annoying (to me at any rate) was, keep moving forward. I don't know what it is exactly about always stopping in any and every threshold, each and every time that threshold has been approached - but not yet crossed - perhaps an ingrained, prehistoric memory-response to invisible threats long eradicated back when early humans were mating with neanderthals in dark cave dwellings, or perhaps everyone - myself included - also stopped at the precipice of each and every threshold in my youth? A memory I've either long forgotten, or more likely suppressed, no doubt to my own father's reaction to such an abrupt and disruptive maneuver, passed down from generation to generation. Either way, they'd stop - both of them - every single time we'd enter or leave any edifice which had any semblance of an ingress/egress point, up to and including the front and back doors to our own house - the very house in which they themselves resided, so it wasn't like it only ever happened at a brand new toy store they'd never before laid eyes upon.
And as a large, ambulatory male, my stopping distance was more like that of a warship than a Porsche, for example, which is why I so often reminded them, in the absolutely nicest way possible, to KEEP MOVING FORWARD. More often than not, in busier, populated areas, there were other large, ambulatory males tracking similar headings and at approximately the same pace as myself. Stopping at thresholds was something which simply couldn't be accommodated, hence the gentle reminder. Again, what surprised me was how often that reminder had to be recited. Ergo, another opportunistic dadism: Keep moving forward.
My children have since grown to adulthood, and I watch with fatherly pride as they carve their own path in this world; beaming brightly at their accomplishments and always at-the-ready with an encouraging word or nod of affirmation. But it struck me early this morning that no matter what - whether I'm there to remind them or not - despite what future struggles they may face, that if they remember anything I've ever said to them, I hope they take my words out-of-context and always, always, always, keep moving forward.