Son: Dad, how old are you going to be tomorrow?
Father: I'll be 34.
Mother hears this and goes into the kitchen, pulling the fire extinguisher from underneath the cabinet. She hurries downstairs and runs into the office.
Father: What are you doing?
Mother: Here, I thought you might need this.
Father: [taking the extinguisher] Why?
Mother: To put out your pant legs.
[Father looks confused]
Father: What are you talking about?
Mother: I figured your pants were going to combust over that whopper you just told our son about your age.
[Father, still slow on the uptake, continues to look confused]
Mother: Didn't you just tell our son you're turning 34?
Father: [laughing because he's finally caught on] Actually, I told him I'm going to be 24.
Mother: That's even worse! I got here just in time.
Happy Birthday, honey. I love you!
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