Knock-knock


“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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