Four men are in the hospital waiting room because their wives are having babies. A nurse goes up to the first guy and says, “Congratulations! You’re the father of twins.”
“That’s odd,” answers the man. “I work for the Minnesota Twins!”
A nurse says to the second guy, “Congratulations! You’re the father of triplets!”
“That’s weird,” answers the second man. “I work for the 3M company!”
A nurse tells the third man, “Congratulations! You’re the father of quadruplets!”
“That’s strange,” he answers. “I work for the Four Seasons hotel!”
The last man is groaning and banging his head against the wall. “What’s wrong?” the others ask.
“I work for 7 Up!”
There were three fathers to be in a hospital waiting room, waiting for their babies to be born.
The first nurse comes out and tells the first father, "Congratulations you're the father of twins!" He says, “Great! I am the manager for the Minnesota Twins.”
The second nurse comes out and tells the second father, "Congratulations you're the father of triplets”! He says, "That's cool! I work for 3M."
The third father opens the window and jumps out.
The third nurse comes out, and asks, “Where's the third father?"
One of the other fathers said, "Oh he jumped out the window.”
The nurse asks, "Why?"
He replied, "He works for Seven Up!"
So my step dad, mother, and I are on our way home from a pint night tonight when we got onto the conversation of twins. I was going back and forth with my mom, who as a nurse was giving insightful comments on the subject. My step dad quips in and asks if there's any specific parts of the US that are prone to fraternal or identical twins. We both are kinda confused for a second, and my mom says it's not a geographical thing but genetics. He then says he would have thought Minnesota would have been the place. I lost my shit. My mom was confused until she realized it was a baseball dadjoke.
Yesterday was Opening Day (baseball) at Target Field (Minnesota). The first 10,000 or so fans received a free blue zip-up hoodie with "Twins" emblazoned on the front. It's a damn fine hoodie.
It's also packed on the stadium concourse. 40,123 attendees that day. As my husband and I are making our way through a dense crowd along the right field concourse, an older gentleman stops me in my tracks with this big grin and says, "Wow, that's a great sweatshirt! Where'd you get it?"
He was holding one in his hand.
His other hand was holding that of his wife, who was rolling her eyes pretty hard. I imagine that was neither the first nor last time he'd made that joke yesterday.