Knock, knock

This week, Andrew has demonstrated he’s developing a keen sense of humor. And by “keen,” I mean “less funny than a booger in my broccoli.”

I was sorting the mail on Saturday when he bounced up behind me. “Daddy, you want to hear a silly joke?”

“Sure!” I put down this week’s sheaf of pre-election cries for attention from the empty shell that passes for a Republican party in Massachsetts and turned around.

“How does a squirrel brush his eyeballs?” Andrew clasped his hands in front of him and leaned forward on his toes.

“I dunno, how?”

“He doesn’t!” Andrew giggled and put his hand over his mouth. “Want to hear a funny joke?” By this point, he was bouncing from foot to foot.


“Butt!” He pushed past me and ran upstairs.

I know, I know, he’s only four and he’ll get it eventually. And if he doesn’t, he might have a successful career as a sitcom writer.

Maggie, on the other hand, piled on the vocab this week. “It’s OK, It’s OK” she said when Andrew wailed after bumping his head. “Siiiih…ook, ook” is how we know it’s time to read. And she’s climbing on positively everything. We had to hide the plastic trike from her, since she had taken to standing on the seat and wiggling around. She dragged the bathroom stepstool into the living room and danced on it for a while tonight. And of course she’s figured out that Andrew yelps when she pulls his hair.

No video this week, but there is a new gallery from Mike and Nancy’s recent visit. I regret that I couldn’t take time off of work to be with them more. However, the pictures reveal that they had plenty of fun without me.