I love lame jokes
I love lame jokes. Even better, I love to make my kids laugh telling them lame jokes.
“Knock knock…who’s there…ella…ella who…elephant.”
“Knock knock…who’s there…ida…ida who…ida opened the door if I knew it was you.”
“Knock knock…who’s there…Sherwood…Sherwood who…Sherwood like to see you if you’d open the door.”
“Knock knock…who’s there…slime…slime who…open the door, slime freezing out here,”
I was reading to two of my children before bed tonight and once we finished Sandra Boynton and turned out the light, we started exchanging lame jokes that we made up. Two of the corniest were “What did the banana say to the ignorant man? I’m splitting” and “How do oranges drive? They peel around corners.” Once he got the punch line, my youngest son started to giggle and repeat the jokes in between laughs in that infectious way where you have to join in whether you want to or not. Pretty soon the three of us were in fits of laughter trying to come up with more jokes while laughing to keep the laughter going. That continued for a good fifteen minutes.
“Why won’t anyone play with Tigger? Because he is always playing with pooh.”
“Why was Tigger looking in the toilet. He was looking for pooh.”
As we grow into adults, silliness is discouraged. We become in our own minds serious people of the world, sophisticated, self-important. One of the benefits of having young children is that we can entertain our kids by once again acting really silly without apology. Laughing with children is wonderful. I cannot think of a better way to head to bed.
Now I just need to work on a few more lame jokes for tomorrow…
