Conversations with my son currently have a tendency to veer dramatically in the middle.
A couple of days ago he was being a fire fighter (because his pajamas had a fire engine on the top and “RESCUE” on one leg).
K: “Baby M can ride the firetruck. She’ll think it’s fun!”
K: “And when you’re there you can buy lemonade at the stand I made by the fire station.”
K: “Sometimes I take my lemonade for a walk. Is that funny?”
K: “The funniest thing of all is butter in your soup . . . or babies in your soup!”
We’ve been having a rash of “funniest things” or adding any word to a constant word to make jokes. He and a friend spent 15 minutes or more coming up with everything they could think of “on your nose.” Flag on your nose. Book on your nose. Fountain on your nose. Etc. All shouted at the top of their lungs. But they were having fun, so her mom and I didn’t care.
K’s also into knock knock jokes right now, except he can’t tell them very well. But that’s another post.