Monday, November 2, 2009

my poor funny bone

Colby (with his new found freedom of reading) reads jokes from his joke book almost nightly.

Tonight after Colby was done reading, we sat around telling jokes that we knew. I told some oldies, but goodies like:
  • What's black and white and red all over? a newspaper...or a penguin falling down the stairs
  • Why did the turkey cross the road? because it was the chicken's day off
Colby shared some that he (I guess) heard at school.

Sam (of course) didn't want to be left out. Poor boy thinks his jokes are hilarious....and it takes all of me to muster a snicker, much less a full fledged laugh.

His jokes go something like this:
  • Why did the chicken cross the road? because there's ketchup on the light switch. hahahaha
  • Why did the ghost say boo? because the fork drove a pineapple car. hahhaaha
Seriously... I know it takes time to master the art of telling (much less, come up with) your own jokes, but I hope it happens soon....for the sake of my funny bone.

1 comment:

  1. Oh, I feel your pain. My daughter has been telling crappy jokes since the summer. Crappy as in bad jokes, not poopy jokes. Honestly, poopy jokes would be a nice break because at least anything with the word poop in it is usually somewhat funny.

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