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.