Has His Sons Wrapped Around His Severed Finger

(My dad is working outside and cuts off his index finger and thumb. We call 911, and after they get him into an ambulance and on the way to the hospital, my mom and I get in the car and follow him. I start texting my older brothers to update them on the situation, since they don’t live at home anymore. My whole family has a very weird and sometimes dark sense of humor.)

Me: “Dad cut his fingers. They might have to amputate them. Mom and I are on the way. [Sister] already knows. I’ll update when I get any news.”

(After the initial shock has set in with both of them, they message me back.)

Brother #1: “Guess I have to take that guitar back, don’t I?”

Brother #2: “Too early for keyboard jokes?”

(After my dad is able to get out of the hospital, they start the jokes right back up.)

Brother #1: “That’s good that he can go home. Make sure he sits in the back; it’s not like he can point directions, anyway.”

Brother #2: “If he says he has a booger, make sure you say, ‘Not it!'”

Brother #1: “Start thinking of some good puns we can make.”

Me: “Already on it.”

Brother #2: “It’s all right that he lost a few; at least he has eight more.”

Brother #1: “He’s going to need a calculator; his counting is going to be way off from now on.”

Brother #2: “On the bright side, I’ve got a good Halloween idea planned already.”

Me: “He’s not going to be giving as many high-fives as he used to; it’ll be more like high-three-and-a-half.”