Block Signal Puns

This was one of her favorite jokes she loved to tell: One day, a man was walking home after a long day at work. As he waited for a crosswalk signal, he glanced back and noticed a coffin standing down the block. "Odd," he thought, but he ignored it and continued home. He turned the corner and managed to catch a glimpse of the coffin again. This time is was closer to him... like it was following him. He picked up his pace and ran into his apartment complex. The coffin was right behind him. In a fright, he dashed up the stairs to his place, locked the door and barricaded himself in the bathroom. Thud, thud, thud! The coffin was banging on the bathroom door. The man frantically looked for something to defend himself. Just as the coffin busted through the door, the man grabbed some cough syrup from the medicine cabinet, threw it at the coffin ... and the coffin stopped.

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.