Running total Puns

Wife: Oh look, a moving sale, we should go see what they have.

Me: I only hope we can catch it.

He rushes upstairs to find his wife naked on the bed, sweating and panting.

"What's up?" he says.

"I'm having a heart attack," cries the woman.

He rushes downstairs to grab the phone, but just as he's dialing, his 4-year-old son comes up and says,"Daddy! Daddy! Uncle Ted's hiding in your closet and he's got no clothes on!"

The guy slams the phone down and storms upstairs into the bedroom, past his screaming wife, and rips open the wardrobe door. Sure enough, there is his brother, totally naked, cowering on the closet floor.

“You rotten bastard," says the husband,"my wife's having a heart attack and you're running around naked scaring the kids!!!”

I live in South Carolina, sort of near the coast, and Hurricane Florence is headed this way. My two youngest children--total cowards--were helping me clear out all of the storm drains and curb gutters on our street to help the expected 10-20 inches of rain drain as best they can. Any time any insect flies past them, they scream bee and run away screaming. I'm talking like they're afraid of butterflies. My youngest says that Winter is her favorite season because all the bees are dead.

So, we finish up, and I go inside ahead of them, making them put the shovels away, and I hear, from inside, them running and crying/shrieking across the front porch and inside the house.

My youngest, amidst her sobs, says, "It was as big as a baseball" and holds the one I keep on my desk up for comparison.

I think make the B sign in ASL with both of my hands, stand up and say "BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ" at them while they run away in fear, and when the middle child says, "THAT'S NOT FUNNY" I keep moving towards them with my B hands while saying, "DO YOU WANT ME TO JUST LET YOU BEE? HAHAHAHAHAHAHA"

I'm a great dad.

What kind of math do birds use?

Owl-gebra

What kind of math does a farmer use?

Cow-culus

What kind of math should you avoid if you have carpal tunnel?

A-wrist-metic

Which mathematical process would you use to find the total amount of chinaware you have?

Ad-dish-on

Which mathematical process would be most commonly found in a 1950's style diner?

Malt-iplication

If one runner on team injured her leg, how would you find out how many can still run?

Sub-track-tion

One morning while sitting down for breakfast, my Dad looks up, points at my waist and exclaims, "What are those two things coming out of your butt?!" My 6 yr. old self wheels around like a dog chasing it's tail looking for said objects. nothing. I ask what they were and he says he's not sure, but that I will be fine. After school he get's home from work. Me: "Dad, do you those things coming out of my butt still?" Dad: "Yup" Repeat action and conversation from the morning again. And repeat again then next day, and the next ... 7 days in total I'm getting pissed my Dad see's them all the time but my Mom and older Sister don't. I surely don't see two things coming out of my butt. I'm starting to freak out and cry. Why can I not see these two things coming out of my butt, I'm sobbing, blubbering gibberish and spittle running down my chin to my shirt. I'm gasping for air and crying and just about to blow a gasket (I'm 6 mind you ...) my mom finally had enough, "Dammit Craig ... TELL HIM NOW!!" I get all calmed down and start getting excited, I'm going to find out! he sits me down and tells me this ... "I have told you all week that you had two things coming out of your butt?" That's why I'm losing my shit, Dad "Well, I was talking about your legs. You're legs come out of your butt and you have two of them." all the while looking me straight in the eyes, he starts a famously wonderful shit-grin. Mom loses it again, throws her arms up in utter frustration/disappointment/disbelief. Sister virtually pissing herself in laughter. My dad gets up, smiling that smile, he walks away with a pat on the head. "Pay better attention next time."

groan.

TLDR: I was 6, told I have 2 things coming out of my butt for a week. finally told that they where my legs. facepalm and groaner.

edit: - waiting for the right moment to pull this one on my 5 and 7 yr old ...

I have about 6 pairs of shoes in total (including dress shoes and flip flops).

My fiancee absolutely hates my old flip flops and old adidas samba, and conversely I love those two in particular. She has, on more than one occasion, threatened to junk them, to which I replied that she would become single.

Yesterday, our golden retriever puppy found and made short work of my flops and one adidas. My fiancee watched as I sadly marched the two pairs to the bin, but she didn't know the amount of dad she was about to face.

I dropped them in the bin, looked up at her, and said "well, they had a good run."

... so they were holding a "nun run".

Me: I sure hope no one trips and starts a big pileup of nuns.

Dad: Oh?

Me: Yea, that'd be a total cloisterfuck.