Two Thumbs Up Puns

Which I really didn't appreciate.

Said to my kids after showing them this:

https://www.theverge.com/circuitbreaker/2017/7/6/15927362/3d-printed-prosthetic-third-thumb-dani-clode

...which is just plain awesome regardless!

It was a brisk Saturday morning when Gerald arrived at “The Café,” a hip coffee shop right down the street. Wearing his large, burly black coat, he stared hesitantly at his watch. Thick glasses adorned his bright blue eyes, his gaze like starlight in a clear night sky. He was waiting, intently twiddling his thumbs. After a buzz of his phone, the message from Dad popped up: “Parking now, be there in 5.”

“Dad,” he whispered under his breath, swiping the message away to once again reveal the image on his lock-screen: a hazy picture of an ultrasound.

Gerald had not spoken to his father for three years. They had had a falling out, over which he did not remember. To him it was a competition of who could wait the longest without calling or sending a text. Who could wait the longest: him without a father, or his father without a son? The idea of friction in the relationship hurt like a thorn; piercing his soul more and more everyday. Until recently, out of the blue, “Dad” popped up on his phone. The rest is history. The rest leads to that Saturday morning, at The Café.

Bang! A car door rang out not too far from where Gerald stood. Gerald saw him. His father wore his tweed jacket like a coat of armor. His strut was now weaker than before they stopped talking; a weakness evident in his cane which supported every right step. His shortly trimmed white beard juxtaposed against his uncut, curly grey hair gave him the image of a wise wizard from a fairytale. He used to be that figure to Gerald, yet instead of a nice ancient being acting like a stone to keep him grounded, Gerald had felt as though his father was a rock pulling him deeper and deeper into a sea of monotony. Holding him back from his true potential. Maybe that was why he left? He still did not know.

“Hello, son,” came the withered voice Gerald had sook for so long, yet now that it had arrived wanted to avoid. “I can’t believe it’s been so long!”

“Yeah,” said Gerald, allowing a smile to grace his face. “Too long!”

Then they hugged, signifying a change in their relationship. Gerald had hoped something could happen to bring them closer together. He did not want to go on wondering what could have been. The regret and sadness weighed him down. Before starting a new family, Gerald wanted to be reacquainted with his own.

After finding their table and sitting down, the two began to discuss life. It was like old friends catching up after a long break. Although it took some time, Gerald began to warm u

So, my dad could be considered a regular jokester. He had his dad jokes, his dirty jokes, clean but provocative joke, setup jokes, everything. He never missed a chance to turn something into a joke for hinself, even, and perpahs especially, if it only amused himself. I found out at an young age that no situation is too serious for him.

I was around 9 years old and I was in the cub scouts, and it was box car derby season. I was in the dining room, carving away at my block of wood when the blade in my right hand skipped the wood and carved my left thumb. It fucking hurt and bled like a sonofabitch. I immediately starting screaming and my dad raced into the room and found me covered in blood, my left hand now with two thumbs. We get it wrapped and he drives me to the emergency room. By the time we got there the bleeding had stopped and I have stopped crying. As we pull up, my dad looks st me, shakes his head and says "We can't go in there like this, we'll end up waiting forever to see a doctor. You need to cry once we're in there and that'll help" I said ok, and he said as we were walking up, "I'll give you a signal to start crying." How will i know, i asked him snd he just said i'll know. We go inside and walk up to the admittance desk. I'm short, so at the time my head just cleared the desk. My dad tells the nurse that we have a cut, and need to see a doctor right away. The nurse pushes paperwork at him and he tells her again, this time that its a real bad cut. The nurse finally looks at me for the first time and she frowns, because im relatively normal looking, even though im hurting and nervous, waiting for my dads signal. My dad pulls me back a bit and her eyes widen really big when she sees all the dried blood caked on the lower left side of my body. She starts getting excited and says "Ohmygoshohmygosh" over and over and this point im starting to get scared when my Dad, in a serious voice says "Its even worse than it looks! You're going to have to take the whole hand!"

Then I start crying.

We ordered for our food and we asked for extra plates for our two kids. The waitress leaves and comes back with four little plates and sets them down on the table. In the most enthusiastic voice, my husband gives a thumbs up and says "Thanks! These look delicious!"

Walked into the room and asked

"What has two thumbs and burps"

did two thumbs up, burped and left the room.

The only response I got was Daaaaaddd

A while ago I was sat down to dinner with my family, a delicious meal as it always is, ta very much Mum. Throughout dinner and the usual post-dinner chatter Dad had been muttering "My my myyyy Delilah..." to himself. Usually you can ignore a bit of a quiet singsong someone outside of a conversation is having to themselves but every 10-15 minutes he'd go "My my myyyy Delilah...". A good 2 hours after starting our dinner my sister feels the need to ask "Dad, why do you keep singing my my my delilah? Was there a song on the radio or something?". Dad gives a confused little look and goes "Hmmm? What? Oh dear oh dear oh dear... It's actually a medical problem. I went to the doctor about it recently" then raises his head trying to conceal that grin that we all know and dread. "He said I had Tom Jones Syndrome. I asked if it was common. He just shrugged and said it's not unusual". I gave him two thumbs up and a look of respect, most of the table gave a horrified groan. 2 Hours! the dedication on that man!

My mom was browsing weather.com come and announced a storm blowing in called "Meso k9" Without skipping a beat my dad grins "Sounds like one dog of a storm" tbh i didnt even grown, but gave him two thumbs up