Thumbs Up Puns

...happy days!

Which I really didn't appreciate.

Who's on the phone dad?

it’s just a rule of thumb

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!

The steaks have never been higher...

But I doubt you would get it, it's to subtle

Wife: "Look, they used to treat pain with willow bark".

Me: "I'll give that one 3 stars".

Wife: "This one is about the invention of antibiotics".

Me: "I'll give it 8 out of 10".

Wife: "Apparently, they used give people cowpox to protect them from smallpox".

Me: "Definitely 2 thumbs up".

Wife: "Why do you keep doing that?".

Me: "I'm the curator of this museum"!

I highly approve hitchhiking. In fact, I give it a big thumbs up.

When my Mum and her sisters were younger, in an attempt to keep them quiet for half an hour, he told them to sit down next to each other so he could do their portrait. Every now and again he would stop, look up and to ensure he had the correct scale, held out his thumb and squinted a little, then continued.

After half an hour they got restless and said "Are you done yet, let's see".

He turned the drawing pad around to show...a simple sketch of a thumb.

Not a Dad yet, but thankful to have this trick up my sleeve for when I am.

A little blue man finds a little yellow string and doesnt know what it's for so he goes into his little blue bedroom and asks his little blue wife what it's for. She says she doesnt know and that he should ask the little red man.

So he goes out his little blue bedroom down his little blue stairs, down the little blue hallway, out the little blue door, down the little blue path, out the little blue gate down the little blue path and out the little blue village. Into the little red village, up the little red road, though the little red gate, up the little red path, though the little red door up the little red hallway and into the little red living room and asked the little red man "do you know what this little yellow string is for" and he replied "no clue go ask the little green man"

So he goes out the little red living room, down the little red hallway, out the little red door, down the little red path, out the little red gate down the little red path and out the little red village. Into the little green village, up the little green road, though the little green gate, up the little green path, though the little green door up the little green hallway and into the little green living room and asked the little green man "do you know what this little yellow string is for" and he replied "no clue go ask the little brown man"

So he goes out the little green living room, down the little green hallway, out the little green door, down the little green path, out the little green gate down the little green path and out the little green village. Into the little brown village, up the little brown road, though the little brown gate, up the little brown path, though the little brown door up the little brown hallway and into the little brown living room and asked the little brown man "do you know what this little yellow string is for" and he replied "no clue go ask the little yellow man"

So he goes out the little brown living room, down the little brown hallway, out the little brown door, down the little brown path, out the little brown gate down the little brown path and out the little brown village. Into the little yellow village, up the little yellow road, though the little yellow gate, up the little yellow path, though the little yellow door up the little yellow hallway and into the little yellow living room and asked the little yellow man "do you know what this little yellow string is for" and he replied " yeah when you get home pull it for a suprise"

So he g

When I was 6-7, my dad would touch his thumb and index finger together in a circle and ask "can you poke your head through this hole?" I would honestly try to figure out a way to fit my head through the circle, or, at least how he managed to do it.

When I gave up, he'd put the circle up to his forehead and poke himself with his other hand's index finger.

Putting jelly on toast this morning and got some on me. Held it up and said, "Look. I jammed my thumb." Went over as well as I expected.

Yes, I know there's a difference between jelly and jam. I just don't care enough to waste a good joke.

Dealing with a potentially sick four month old, trying to decide if he's got a cold or allergies.

Me: "Has his snot been clear or colored?"
Wife: "It hasn't been colored."
Me: "Well that's good, it's probably just allergies, then."
Wife: "Yeah, I guess you could say we're... in the clear."

I just looked at her in shock as she gave me the smuggest grin and a thumbs up.

Husband: Where are we going to put it? Me: In the house. Husband: Where in the house? Me: On the floor.

Then I gave him a super cheesy grin and a thumbs up.

My friends grandfather would always ask him the same joke for 30 years till he passed. Want to see me wiggle my ear? And then he would hold his hand up in a fist and wiggle his thumb. Then walk away laughing. WHAT IS THE JOKE?!!?!

For a little bit of background information, my dad suffers from multiple system atrophy and got a high fever, which turned out to be from a bad urinal tract infection. He has been at the hospital for almost 2 weeks now, and it is really hard on our family, but he is doing his best to get better and throws this small dad joke to lighten me and my brothers day.

A Speech Therapist comes every day to help him focus on his muscles in his face to help him swallow and speak clearer with simple gestures of noises and deep breathing. As she was done with his exercises, she said to him "Can you say goodbye, have a nice day! in a long sentence?" (As in one breath with no pauses). My dad then takes a look at me and my brother and says in his slurred voice "goodbye... have a nice day... in a long sentence".

The Speech Therapist just smiled and shook her head while we facepalmed...

Thumbs up Dad, I know you will come home soon!

I'm not usually one for bars, but since the smoking ban in Illinois, they're not so bad. I'm not much of a drinker either, but this one place in particular offers free soft drinks for designated drivers of groups of three or more. You have to get them from a location separate from the bartender. You declare yourself upon entering the place, then your hand is marked, and from that point, you're not allowed alcohol, but you get the free soft drinks.

Their specialty is their own brand of a mixed fruit drink that's really good. It's popular enough that you're usually standing behind six or seven people to wait your turn. So, Saturday night, while I'm waiting for mine, this cute blonde walks up behind me. I figured I'd try to be witty and asked her, "Can I buy you a drink?"

She scowled at me with, "Well aren't you the funny one?"

"What's with the attitude?" I asked her.

"Sorry," she said. "It's them." And she thumbed toward a table with (would you believe it?) a brunette and a redhead.

"Why?" I asked. "What'd they do?"

"I'm just getting sick of it," she said. "Every time we come here, it's always me in the punch line."

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.

Yesterday, my dad was talking to a colleague on the phone, and I heard him say "I can't find the footnote, it should say 'edited by [another colleague's name]'". So I got a marker, wrote the information on my foot, went up to him and said "I found the footnote" and showed him my foot. I got a thumbs up and a grin. Success.

At work we we have a large fireplace we use to heat the shop in the winter. Occasionally a sign shop down the street gives us some long cardboard tubes (think toilet paper but longer and thicker) that we can burn. It's a win-win situation that gets rid of their garbage and provides us heat for the winter.

Anyways I pick up the tubes and come pulling in the shop with a truck bed full. I start unloading when my boss comes up to help out. Upon seeing the tubes he makes the shaka sign (surfer hand symbol with thumb and pinky out) and says "Tubular".

I physically groaned at this one.

Chinese dude here.

Every time we have dinner with extended family, we'll have a whole steamed fish as one of the courses.

My dad will usually be the person to cut up and distribute the fish among the family.

Every time he does that, he'll use the spoon and fork to make the fish mouth "thunder, thunder, THUNDERCATS! HOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" before cutting up the fish followed by this shit-eating grin around the table. No one above the age of 14 laughs.

The younger cousins find this funny and that's probably why my dad keeps doing it every freaking time.

Just my dad's thing.

My father does not frequently make dad jokes, but today he surprised me. For thanksgiving many family members are all in the same house. I was lying in bed and so he and my brother came to get me up. My brother says "you should probably get up. Mom is up, jon is up, ben is up..." and my dad turns to me and says "Even tom is up." It takes me a minute but I realize that he has his thumb up and that through his slight accent the line between thumb and tom is fine. In a language that is not his first, my dad has finally made a dad joke. I am a proud son.

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!"

Driving past a street sign indicating "Ferres Boulevard"

I had to comment "Look, Ferris Buellervard!"

My wife gave me the thumbs up. My kids didn't get it.

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