My son is obsessed with cows. That’s right, you heard me. I said COWS. His current favourite knock knock joke (and oh how we love those) goes something like this:
O: “Knock knock”
Me: “Who’s there?”
O: “Bannahead” (wait for it)
Me: “Bannahead who?”
O: “Bannahead has a cow on it”
….and there it is once again, Cow.
Do you like your supper, O? Yeah, it has a cow in it. (snicker snicker)
Would you like to watch a show, O? I wanna watch mad movers with a cow on it. (snicker snicker)
Are you buckled? Yeah with a cow. (snicker snicker)
To his sisters: You have a cow on your head. (snicker snicker)
Why did you throw that on the floor? I didn't, the cow did it.
At least he cracks himself up. It could be worse. I asked another mother at preschool if her son was doing the cow craze. Apparently not . The catch phrase in their house tends to lean towards the poop word. So like I said.. it could be worse.
And then it occurred to me… I better write this down. Who knows how long this phase will last and after all, I am going to need good material on his wedding day. In fact, I might be able to screen out the weak and not so worthy girlfriends by trotting out this old post and asking the prospective bride…
“So…. how do you feel about cows.”
My son will cry in embarrassment… “Moooomm”
and I will reply, elegantly of course,
“Don’t have a cow dude!”