There was an electrician and a plumber waiting in line for admission into The International Home Show. One was the father of the other’s son. How is this possible?
My first is a number, my second another,
And each, I assure you, will rhyme with the other.
My first you will find is one-fifth of my second,
And truly my whole is a long period reckoned.
Yet my first and my second (nay, think not I cozen),
When added together will make but two dozen.
How many am I?
My life is measured in hours
I serve by being devoured
Thin, I am quick
Fat, I am slow
The wind is my foe.
What am I?