Skip to main content

Dwayne the bathtub, I'm dwowning!

Phoebe has started telling knock knock jokes. Kind of. Examples:

Knock knock!

Who's there?

Olive!

Olive who?

I love you!

Okay, that one's all right. But then things go downhill:

Knock knock!

Who's there?

Olive!

Olive who?

You don't have to cry about it!

This one, however, she seems to have made up herself, and it's not bad:

Knock knock!

Who's there?

Grapes!

Grapes who?

Don't grapes the eggs!

(Get it? Grapes? Like breaks? Don't break the eggs? Well, I thought it was clever. For heaven's sake, she's only two.)

As for Mallory...well, for years now (funny to say that about someone who's only six), Mallory has perpetually mixed up oranges and peaches. "Can you peel me a peach?" she'll say, holding up a clementine. So you can guess what happened when she tried to tell that most famous (and annoying) of knock knock jokes...that's right: "Peach you glad I didn't say banana?"

True confession time, though -- I was maybe sixteen, seventeen, twenty-three years old before I realized that "orange you glad" was meant to be "aren't you glad." So that joke never made much sense to me to begin with.

Comments

aimee said…
Knock Knock?

Who's there?

Police.

Police Who?

Police no more knock knock jokes!!

(This is the one I tell my kids when I am sick of hearing theirs.)

:)
Anonymous said…
I'll never forget when Cam started to tell knock knock jokes to Granddad John. Caleb and Kristi were there so granddad thought that this would be funny:

GJ- Knock Knock.
Cam- Who's there?
GJ - Caleb.
Cam- Caleb who?
GJ - Caleb Barker.

Cam and granddad thought that was hilarious. So I guess bad knock knock jokes run in the family and it starts way up at the top.

Casey
H Noble said…
Kids and their jokes crack me up. My nanny's 3 year old always has one for me and they don't even make sense. A quick, frantic look to Abbey rewards me with "Just laugh and she'll move on." Thankfully it works, b/c I'm speechless when I'm faced with some of the punch lines. I love how their minds are always spinning!
H

Popular posts from this blog

I ask you

This is my garden: Or rather, this is the patch of soil that was my garden last summer. It produced millions of tomatoes, dozens of green peppers, a handful of cucumbers, and two puny watermelons. I do not wish to repeat last summer's vegetable bounty, because most of said bounty went to waste. Nor, however, do I want this patch of soil to remain brown and bare throughout the summer, because it's unattractive. So, what do I plant here, in the shrubbery/flowery vein? Keep in mind that I do not have a green thumb. Also, I don't want to spend a lot of money. Also, this area is in full sun most of the day. And it's really hot. And sometimes we get rabbits. Any advice? To thank you in advance, I give you these goofy photos of my children and their homemade parfaits (which Mallory persisted in calling "specialinis").

It's what's for dinner

One of the things that I failed to appreciate about my mom until I left home is that she always made dinner (although I think we called it supper then), by which I mean, something hot, usually involving a vegetable. I don't remember my mom ever saying sheepishly to her hungry spouse and offspring, "I don't feel like cooking, how about a bowl of cereal?" I hate making dinner. Haaate it. It's my least favorite chore. It's not necessarily because I can't cook. I can usually manage to create something edible, although I have yet to perfect the science of getting, say, the chicken and the broccoli and the rice and the rolls all ready at the same time. (There are those among you who may be surprised that I make and serve broccoli. It's true! It's best when roasted: Toss with olive oil and salt, spread on a baking sheet, put in 400 degree oven for about 8 minutes. It's delicious! Delicious as broccoli can be, at least.) It's also not necessarily t...

the closet

Amy has challenged me to list 8 things that are hidden in the back of my closet. I try not to actually look to closely at the back of my closet, so these are my closest guesses: 1. At least three no-longer-needed diaper bags. 2. An outfit that I've been meaning to return to Land's End for at least six months now. 3. One of our wedding pictures, which has a broken frame which I keep meaning to replace. 4. Shoes, shoes, shoes, shoes. 5. Possibly a pair of fuzzy slippers. I miss those fuzzy slippers. Maybe I should brave the mess and go try to find them. 6. Baby blankets. 7. A few small toys that I meant to stick in the girls' Christmas stockings. Maybe next year. 8. And I'm guessing, a bunch of mismatched socks. My closet isn't very interesting, I'm afraid.