“I’ve made up a joke,” my ten-year-old son JD said.
He’d walked up from nowhere and now hovered at my elbow.
“It’s kinda inappropriate,” he added.
I looked at him over my glasses.
“What do you mean, inappropriate?”
JD wrung his hands together.
“Can I tell you too?” he asked, ignoring my question.
“Who else have you told?”
“Uhm,” he hesitated, “people at school.”
I closed my laptop.
“What people? Kids?”
“Yes—” JD said in the tone you’d use to say “No—”
“What’s this joke?”
He perked up.
“Knock-knock,” he began.
“Who’s there,” I said with some trepidation.
“Fuck.”
I was a little taken aback but I couldn’t help myself.
“Fuck who?” I asked.
“Fuck you!”
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