"Knock Knock"

As I was searching my child's room last night for contraband, I came across a book I hadn't seen for quite awhile. "Everyone's Favorite Knock Knock Jokes". Really? Everyone's Favorite? There is no such thing. Knock Knock jokes are just another tool in our kids' arsenals designed to drive us crazy.

Oh sure, it's cute the first few times. And when it's someone else's kid who is obsessed with knock knock jokes, it's hilarious. However, anyone who gives a kid a book on knock knock jokes is right up there with the people who give our kids harmonicas, drums, tamborines and maracas. It's a socially acceptable form of torture for the parents.

As I recall, this particular book of knock knock jokes came into our possession from the regional library staff where I had signed my kids up for the summer reading program a few years ago. You know, it was one of those programs designed to encourage kids to read over the summer with reward charts, stickers, group activities....all those things designed for the typical child. And for lots of kids it is a wonderful program. My oldest daughter for example, loved it and thrived in that atmosphere. Well, for my other two...let's just say it was an exercise in futility. While other parents snuck off for coffee while their kids were in the group (personally I think "coffee" was a code word for the pub!), I had to stay and try and contain my youngest child. My middle child was so overwhelmed that she just followed her older sister around and I figured at least this way she was getting some type of social contact.

Picture this: it's a beautiful summer evening...there's a group of kids sitting on the grass listening to the librarian read them a story and using puppets. The kids are entranced with the story and the puppets...except for two of my kids. One is staring off into space. My son is sitting in the middle of the group pulling his t-shirt over his knees so he's able to transform himself into a ball - a wrecking ball. He proceeds to try to roll around like this and in the process hits several of the little girls in their pretty little summer dresses who are trying to hear the story and watch the puppet show. I think about pretending I don't know him, but we are already well known in the library (not necessarily for our reading) so I have to weave my way through the kids and try and remove my child, who refuses to stop being a ball, so I have to try and pick him up and carry him out of the crowd. Needless to say ths does disrupt the flow of the story and even the puppets are looking annoyed.

Mercifully the story soon ends and it's time for the librarian to draw names for prizes. (Why oh why do they do this with so many little ones there? Not everyone gets a prize which is a great concept for kids to learn, but for the little ones it only causes tantrums and tears.) And guess who wins a prize? My son. And what does she give him? A giant book of knock knock jokes.

Ok, so librarians have to get their revenge somehow, but really? That's just cruel.

It's all coming back to me now. I think it was me who hid that book. Can you blame me?