As the eldest sister of 4 brothers and 2 sisters, I’ve heard a lot of bad jokes. Usually the same ones, over and over again. Like the perennial favourite 1st joke of gleeful little kids: “Knock knock – who’s there? – Dr – Dr Who? – Haha, you said it”.
Maxi’s been telling rubbish jokes for 2 years now, and the occasional good one remembered from Gigglebiz. Now it seems it’s Midi’s turn to start experimenting with jokes. As far as I can remember, here’s how the conversation went:
Midi: “Why did the cow cross the road?
Me <with a sinking heart>: “I don’t know, why did the cow cross the road?”
Midi: “Cos it went onna pavement, and it need some lovely green grass, trip-trap trip-trap, march march march, I love you cow…” <whitters on like a spam post on a blog for a bit>
Me <impatiently>: “Is that the funny bit yet?”
Midi <pauses whittering>: “No, not yet. The cow goes moo, moo, moo and then it has a milk and then it…” <resumes 3 year old stream of consciousness>
Me: “…’And then it goes to the moon’? Is that the end now?”
Me: “Should I laugh now?”
Midi screams in fright and jumps a foot in the air, then giggles. I’m evil. I’m also fed up listening to rubbish jokes. Maxi knows the drill now – if she tells a funny joke, I laugh; if she tells a rubbish joke, she gets tickled. Either way, the Trout wins 🙂
Talking of jokes, I had Mini tucked under one arm the other day as I tipped out the hard contents of her nappy down the toilet before chucking the nappy in the bin. As I hit the flush, Mini blew effusive kisses goodbye to her poo. Strange child. God help us when we start potty training. Oh pants, that’ll be in only a year’s time… <faints>