Knock Knock

One of the things about living in France is that my kids don’t really get exposed to random bits of Americana, like knock knock jokes. We’re having bananas for breakfast, so I thought I would try to teach them the orange/banana knock knock joke.

I went through it once, playing both parts, and Jonah looked really confused. Maybe not enough coffee? I asked them if I should do it again, and Jonah didn’t want me to, but Owen did. So I started again.

Me: “Knock, knock. Now you say, ‘Who’s there?'”
Owen: “I know! Papa’s at the door!”

Maybe we’ll try this again later.

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