Eleven siblings have I And I am number ten I should have been the eighth But we got jumbled up again Between the last and first of us They always drop the ball And just before I rest the Weird and wicked come to call What am I?

Almost a square, but not quite right; I have four sides, with two matching twice. All four don’t match, yet corners agree, so what simple shape could I be?

I take your inputs, follow rules, process steps you never see. I turn operations into answers - with mathematical certainty.

I am everywhere except for where things are. The more of me you have, the less things you have. I surround the Earth yet I take up no room. What am I?

I have four sisters named Quart, but I am much larger than them all. I contain eight brothers named Pint, yet I fit inside a single plastic jug. I am the weight of eight pounds of water, but I am defined by the space I fill, not the weight I carry. What am I?