Keep in mind: Three children, 9, 5, and not quite 2. Â My elder daughter posts a knock-knock joke to Facebook:
Knock knock
Who’s there?
Owl.
Owl who?
Yep, that’s what they say…
Yes, it is terrible. Â She is passing on her own suffering, as her manager said it to her. Â I, in turn, passed it along to my younger children. Â What I received was three knock-knock jokes in return. Â My 5 year old’s:
Knock knock
Who’s there?
Chicken.
Chicken who?
Aren’t you glad I didn’t say book?
I think she is drawing her inspiration from Dali.
My son responds:
Knock knock.
Who’s there.
Bok.
Bok?
Yes, bok.
Bok who?
That’s what chickens say!
Now there’s a certain continuity to this one. Â It has context. Â It still makes no sense.
And then my almost two year old:
Bok bok. Â Bok bok. Â Bok.
I’ve been sick the last few days so have some updates:
The backyard neighbor has given his tree a Jedi funeral atop a pyre made of old carpet.
Our tree has found a temporary home. Â Do you think it blends?