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.

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