My Kid, the Comedian

Last time I had to teach Joy School the kids and I sat around the dining room table eating our "unique" snack to go along with the lesson, which consisted of a last minute scrounge of cheerios, raisins, goldfish crackers, chocolate chips and a bag of microwave popcorn. The kids, all six of them including Henry, as they are often inclined to do during moments of calm, engaged in telling knock-knock jokes:

Knock, Knock.

Who's there?

Tommy.

Tommy who?

Tommy Chocolate Chip.

Hahhhh hah hah haaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

I smile indulgently. "You guys are funny."

You gotta love kids.

Henry has decided that he really likes the movie "Tommy Boy." Chris Farley cracks him up. The other night while Ben was out with the missionaries Henry asked to watch it so I put it on and started on a crossword. Then a while later Henry said he was hungry and asked for a slice of bread. I said okay and he brought the bread sack for me to undo the twist tie for him. As I was opening the bag a sudden premonition struck me and I handed him the end piece, which almost never gets eaten in this household unless we're completely out of everything else.

"Eat this at the table," I said. "You have to eat it all gone."

Sure enough, about two seconds later I hear Henry in the dining room, "Oohhh! I killed it! I killed my little friend!" He comes triumphantly into the living room with his ripped up bread, grinning like he knows he's the funniest kid on the planet.

This after he sang the Darth Vader/Imperial march for the Joy School talent show. I should have sent him to Joy School that morning with a piece of bread and he could have done the Tommy Boy impression instead.