When it was time to go, Uncle Ron waved and said, “See you in the funny papers.”

Or if I told Uncle Tom, “See you later,” he’d reply, “Not if I see you first.” But if he did see me first, he’d call out, “Here comes trouble.”

If we dropped in at a neighbor’s farm, instead of hello, Dad would greet the guy with, “Workin’ hard or hardly workin’?”

The standard reply was, “Well, look what the cat dragged in.”

As a boy, I stepped closer to dad. If the neighbor had a cat that was big enough to drag Dad anywhere, a little kid didn’t stand a chance. We raised cows. What did he have? Tigers?

But, of course, all of it was the universal language of dads (and uncles) everywhere — Dadisms.

Back in the 1960s, Old Dad Phrases — Dadisms, for short — weren’t a secret language. All of our dads talked that way. They weren’t our bag, but hey, we were cool with it. Do your own thing and let it all hang out. It was groovy with us.

Now that I’m in my 60s, the number of times I hear my dad’s words from the 1960s coming out of my mouth flips my wig.

If you want to learn the language of Dadisms, pull up a chair at any of the places where old dudes hang out. It starts when one of their buddies ambles in:

“Who let this guy in here?”

“I guess they just let anybody in here now.”

All of these phrases translate to the same thing: “I am happy to see you, my dear friend.” No self-respecting guy who grew up in that era would want to be accused of uttering anything sweet. Phrases such as, “I love you. I’m happy to see you,” had to be disguised as corny insults such as, “Hullo, Ugly.” It was Dad law.

Now, when I happen to notice that a friend has visited the barber shop, I hear my dad’s words in my voice: “Get your ears lowered?”

Any kid who grew up in the 1960s like I did undoubtedly remembers these gems from Dear Ol’ Dad:

“Hey, keep it down to a dull roar.” (Any of the dads when my cousins and I got together.)

“If you had a brain, you’d be dangerous.” (Whenever I attempted to help Dad with a project, he’d eventually get frustrated and tell me that.)

“You’ve got all the grace of a cub bear in boxing gloves.” (Still trying to help Dad and making a mess of things.)

“It’s good for what ails you.” (When we protested some chore Dad told us to do.)

“That’ll feel better when it stops hurting.” (Dad sympathy when we incurred a blister working said chore.)

“Stop that crying or I’ll give you something to cry about.” (More dad sympathy.)

“I’ll turn this car around right now.” (Does anyone remember their dad actually turning around?)

“You make a better door than a window.” (Dad when one of us kids got between him and the TV.)

“Straighten up and fly right.” (I’m still not sure what this one meant, other than I knew I was on the verge of cruisin’ for a bruisin’.)

“Were you raised in a barn?” (Actually, we kinda were, Dad. Farm life, you know.)

My dad had some of his own Dadisms that even my peers found a little odd.

Dad would start the day by shaving his “mugly ug.”

Whenever a “contraption” — a word that fit any piece of farm equipment — broke down, Dad would unleash the strongest profanity he knew: “Ah, horse feathers!”

After he engineered a repair, Dad would proclaim, “If that doesn’t work, we’ll always figure it ought’ve.”

When it did work, he’d declare it was “finer than frog’s hair” or “slicker than snot on a doorknob.”

That’s a dad for ya. So how do you like them apples?

Welp, time to blow this Popsicle stand. Here comes trouble.

Confuse Burt at burton.w.cole@gmail.com or on the Burton W. Cole page on Facebook.