Writing Wrongs

November 04, 2005

Last night we told jokes on the drive home. Not sure what sparked it, but Andrew was full of knock-knock jokes and was pressing me for one. I’m not much of a joke teller (although I love a good pun, or bad pun, whatever).

Me: Knock, knock
Andrew: Who’s there?
Me: Acht
Andrew: Acht who?
Me: Gesundheit.

Yes, I’m a veritable laugh riot.

But Andrew came up with a great “book never written”. What’s that? You know, something along the lines of: Stop and Smell the Roses by Ina Hurri. I won’t post Andrew’s here because we’re going to submit it to Boys Life.

Even Kyra wanted to get in on the joke action. Here’s her contribution (which we’re not submitting to Boys Life):

Kyra: Knock, knock.
Me: Who’s there?
Kyra: Bananas
Me: Bananas who?
Kyra: By the door.

It took me a moment to follow the three-year-old logic of this. If bananas are knocking, they must be by the door. Right? In any case, she was very proud to have told a knock-knock joke like her older brother.

Later, I was refilling the spray bottle that I use on the kids’ morning bed-head. (Everyone does this, right? Spray the kids down to tame bed-head, or is it just me?) The following conversation ensured:

Andrew: Mommy, remember that time I was playing with the spray bottle in the tub, and you told me not to fill it with bath water?
Me: Kind of.
Andrew: And when you asked me if I filled it with bath water, I said no.
Me: nodding
Andrew: Well . . . I lied. I’m sorry, Mommy.

Five years later and he’s still wracked with guilt for filling the spray bottle with bath water (and not telling me). There’s a joke in there somewhere, I’m sure.

Charity Tahmaseb wrote at 10:49 a.m.