The Girl has recently become obsessed with knock-knock jokes. Her favorite:

Knock knock.

Who’s there?

Interrupting pirate.

Interrup–

Argh! I interrupted you!

Amusing the first time.

She tried to tell the banana one — you know:

Banana.

Banana who?

Knock knock.

Ad nauseum until the end:

Orange.

Orange who?

Orange you glad I didn’t say “banana” again?.

In my naivete, I corrected her telling, and now it’s an endless cycle of those two jokes.

An aside: the Boy has grown to love — and I mean adore — peanut butter spread on banana slices.

Another aside: the Boy doesn’t say “and.” It’s rather like the name “Anna.”

The other day, on the way somewhere, the Boy tries his first joke from the back of the van:

Knock knock.

Who’s there?

Banana.

Banana who?

Anna peanut butter!

The kid has a future in comedy, I tell you.