Conversation on a Rainy Summer Weekend

“Mom! Knock, knock,” says the eight year old…for the hundredth time this wet, gray weekend.

“What?” I hate rain.

“You can’t say ‘what?’ Say ‘who’s there?’”

“Honey, grown-ups really don’t like knock, knock jokes.”

“But this is a good one.”

“Okay, who’s there?”

“Mom!” interrupts the four year old, “which BeyBlade do you think is going to win the battle, Hades Kerbecs or Burn Fireblaze?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes you do. Pick one.”

“Mom! You were doing my knock, knock joke.”

“Oh right, who’s there?”

“Hades Kerbecs or Burn Fireblaze?”

“Mom!” the nine year old jumps in, “look at this. “Garfield’s theory of evolution. Do you think Odie or a rock is smarter?”

“Mom!” The eight year old again. “Knock, knock!”

“Who does Garfield think is smarter? John or a food processer?”

“Hades Kerbecs or Burn Fireblaze?”

“I pick Burn Fireblaze.”

“No way,” says the four year old.

“He’s weak,” says the nine year old.

“The food processor?”

“Knock, knock!” yells the eight year old.

I can’t wait for the sun to come out.

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3 thoughts on “Conversation on a Rainy Summer Weekend

  1. Anonymous says:

    And how much wine did you have that night?! Love it. I got to spend an hour “talking” to my daughter on her plastic cell phone about setting up playdates. She was in her room. I was in my room. And she kept saying–ok, you hang up and call me again. No Mommy. I will call you. You hang up then say hello.

    About 100 times. Done with the rain too.

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