In the process of packing up our house I came across my son's joke book-- a notebook in which I compiled jokes that my son made up. I started keeping the joke book when he was about four and stopped updating it when he was about.... four.
Okay, so it is more of a joke pamphlet than a joke book. Nevertheless, at a young age he was churning out some pretty decent material.
Example:
Q: What did one poop say to the other?
A: You look flushed.
Not bad wordplay (if you can get past the poop part). Unfortunately, for the past few years, there has been no getting past the poop part. Or the parts that poop. My kids (and their friends) think that true humor lies in the mere utterance of certain words. I have tried-- and failed-- numerous times to explain to my son how much funnier he is when he turns a phrase or draws a parallel.
Toilet humor, I tell him, is beyond lame.
Which is why it is all the more shameful that I am still laughing when I think of the anatomy lesson my seven year old daughter's friend gave me.
"Do you know what this is called?" she asked, pulling on the extra skin on the back of her elbow.
I shrugged.
"The wenis" she informed me, matter-of-factly. "And do you know what this is called?" she asked, pointing to the inside fold of her elbow.
I shook my head.
"THE WAGINA!" she guffawed, ever so pleased that I had walked right into it.
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