One of my family’s favorite games — after “Pick on the Kitty,” “Who Can be the Quietest?” and “Let’s Kick Daddy in a Sensitive Spot! Again!” — is, “Is It Or Isn’t It Irony?”

OK, ours might not be a normal family.

But awhile back, after noticing my two kids misusing the word irony several hundred gazillion times a day, I launched into one of my trademark lectures. You know, the kind that makes eyes roll and vacate and ears shut off.

I explained most folks use irony incorrectly, and that most instances of so-called irony really are more coincidental than anything. I tried to explain the true definition of irony and ended up pretty much parroting the oft-cited definition of obscenity: To paraphrase, I don’t know what it is, but I know it when I hear it.

My family and I went over Alanis Morissette’s catchy song “Ironic” and decided by far the vast majority of her examples of irony, weren’t. Though I did argue that the fact it was called “Ironic” and purported to be a laundry list of examples of irony, but wasn’t, made it ironic, but I think the convoluted logic just made it confusing instead.

We visited isitironic.com to vote on potential examples of irony, and we discussed comedian/noted English linguist George Carlin’s famous example of irony involving a diabetic’s death by insulin truck. Good stuff.

Then the kids, especially, invented “Is It Or Isn’t It Irony?” by proposing all sorts of credible (no, really!) situations and asking for a ruling on whether it was ironic, coincidental, poetic or something else.

The game petered out after a bit, but every now and then, out of nowhere, my son or daughter will say, “So, is it irony if … ” and we’re at it again.

I thought of the game the other day when I rode my bike to pay taxes to register my car. It’s a yearly ritual I rather enjoy — the bike ride part, not the write-the-check part. I can’t remember the last time I drove to pay The Man, and at first I considered it ironic.

The more I think about it, though, the more I decide there’s nothing ironic about it, but I do enjoy the symbolism. Invariably, when cyclists and noncyclists collide verbally, one of the first criticisms leveled at the two-wheeled set is, “Until you pay taxes to pay for the roads, stay off them,” or some variation thereof. So every time I re-up my car tags (or buy gas, for that matter, or pay general taxes), I’m helping pay for the roads. The more I ride my bike, the less wear-and-tear I inflict on said roads.

So I can’t help but be happy to ride my bike to pay my car tags.

Ironic? No. But it’s a lot more fun than being kicked in a sensitive spot.