Reid got a new Chirp magazine in the mail last night and so knock-knock jokes are in my thoughts. I wanted something profound – like a thank-you for all of the childrens’ book advice Sari offers – or something amusing like the story of the underwear she had to wear at Kathleen’s wedding but what came out was this joke:
Knock, knock.
Who’s there?
Sari.
Sari who?
Sari we couldn’t be there to give you a birthday kiss in person.
I’m not in control of my thumbs, my brain is* and it wanted to write a joke. We’re all lucky that it didn’t want me to write and perform a song. I could come up with a poem that’s appropriate for both Sari’s birthday and Halloween:
Roses are dead,
Leaves are falling,
Happy birthday, Sari,
You are a darling.
But I can’t carry a tune, let alone write one. (I might not be the world’s greatest poet, either ;+)
Happy birthday, Sari! I hope this is a great year!
* I’ve tried telling Reid that she is in control of her brain but she disputes this assertion. She says that is does what it wants and goes to spend time with her dad while she sleeps. Logic is no match for the conviction of a 4-year-old.