The kids have gotten into "knock knock" jokes. They especially like to share their version of this timeless treasure at the dinner table. Our meals have been filled with comic relief for the past 2 weeks, and it is a true wonder that I am still sane. Hannah and Bethany try hard to come up with unique twists on double entendre, which sometimes works... and sometimes doesn't. Take the following for example:
Where is gravy's favorite place to go? (we were eating meat and gravy)
Where?
The gravy-yard.
So you get the combination of morbid humor along with your meal. Nice. Sometimes the joke is just plain ridiculous. Enter: Caleb. He has been on a role with a particular knock-knock which he finds to be humor defined. It goes like this:
Knock Knock.
Who's there?
Banana Chippie.
Banana Chippie who?
Banana Chippie your neighborhood.
When we discover the meaning of "banana chippie your neighborhood" I will be sure to blog about it. Until then we can only save for his future therapy, and hope that medicine produces a breakthrough.
I know my grandson pounces around the house like a monkey at times, bouncing off the couch and anything else that is handy (including Nana and especially Daddy) but this is the second time in the same number of weeks that banana has been in his vocabulary. Am I missing something? ;-) Nana
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