The world’s worst jokes. Now made moderately better.

I think it’s been fairly well established that my 4 year old is eminently quotable. This doesn’t make her special, per se–it makes her 4. But of course I am allowed to believe she’s funnier than most. Which she is.

And by the way, thank you for the kind accolades and comments on my girls’ Oscars fashion commentary. Now they’re drafting job application letters for E!, and demanding residuals when I use their image in a post, citing some sort of NY state law about minors and endorsements. Man.

Lat night, Thalia, Sage and I cuddled up in bed with some horrendous joke book for kids with “Awesome Jokes” in the title, hat Thalia got from lord-knows-where. The original publication date is 1992 which helps–in part–to describe the terrible, dated nature of most of the jokes. Although I’m pretty sure they were bad in 1992 too.

Q: Why is a son at college like an electrician?

A: Because both wire for money all night.


Chad: I’m home Hazel. You can serve the salad.

Hazel: How did you know we were having salad?

Chad: There’s no smell of burning.

Wah wah wahhhhhhh….

Evidently 1992 was a time in which boys liked sports and went to college and became carpenters and lawyers, girls cooked dinner for their boyfriends, everyone goes to Sunday school, and it was okay to call joke books awesome that are not awesome at all.

In any case, we spent the evening skipping around the book, me trying to find the jokes I think they’ll actually understand. Not just because they’re 4 and 6, but because it’s not the early Clinton years and they don’t know from Beach Boys and telephone booth references.


Me: Why did Mickey Mouse go into space?

Thalia: Why?

Me: To see Pluto!

Thalia: That’s great! That’s the best one ever! I love that one!

Me: What has fingers and thumbs but no arms?

(long pause, serious contemplation ensues)

Sage: I know I know! An alligator! An alligator!

Me: No..

Sage: Yes, an alligator. It has no arms.

Me: No, the answer is a glove! Get it?

Sage: But what if the glove has arms?

Me: That’s true.

Me: Why did the elephant paint himself a lot of colors?

Thalia: Why?

Me: So he could hide in a pack of M&Ms. Hm, that one’s terrible. Can elephants hide in a bag of M&Ms?

Thalia: I would hide in a bag of M&Ms. If I was a baby elephant.

Sage: I would hide in a bag of M&Ms if I was a baby elephant and I was with my grown up.

Me: If an egg is floating down the Hudson River, where does it come from?

Sage: Eggland.

Me: No…a hen.

Thalia: A hen! I get it.

Me: Sage, do you get it? Like a hen lays eggs. A mommy chicken.

Sage: But the hen could have been in Eggland.

Me: That’s true.

Sage: So the answer is Eggland.

Me: Okay.

Thalia: Mommy, I don’t understand this do you keep a fish from smiling.

Me: How?

Thalia: Cut off its nose?

Me: I don’t understand that either…let me see…oh wait, it says how do you keep a fish from smelling. Not smiling.

Thalia: That makes more sense.

Me: Or scents! Get it? More scents?

Thalia: Not really.

Sage: Let me do one. Why did the chicken bock on his head?

Me: Why?

Sage: Because he had to poop.

Me: I think you made that up.

Sage: No, it says that in the book! It’s in here. Because he had to poop.

Me: Can I see it?

Sage: No.



22 thoughts on “The world’s worst jokes. Now made moderately better.”

  1. If you never thought you’d say “Grandma” and “karaoke” in the same sentence, might you consider substituting “Joke Book”? Say what you want, it stopped Thalia’s tears after Sage broke her Glow Stick.

  2. When my boys were “of an impressionable age,” my nephew was “of a trying to make jokes” age. His best: “Knock knock who’s there bananapants!” (said with no pauses) This has now been the main joke told in my home for upwards of six years. It Won’t Go Away. (Not that “bananapants” isn’t funny, I mean, it is, but….)

  3. It actually took me a minute to get the egg joke. What does that say about me? I can’t wait until my son is at the joke stage. Until then, we will continue to read One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue fish 53 times a day. Your girls are just delightful.

  4. 2 of my boys are getting to the “bad joke” stage. I’ve had to let them start bringing their DS2s along for ESPECIALLY long car rides….

  5. I still don’t get the hen joke.

    I wonder if I would have gotten it in 1992? I mean, I was a senior in college, so theoretically I could get it, but now? Nope.

  6. The early joke stage is so rough. If I never hear another 5 minute long version of “knock-knock/who’s there/banana” again, I will be very happy.

  7. Love those, and I’d like that bag of M&Ms that the elephant is hiding in because it’s got to be pretty huge.

  8. Liza, we are going through the same thing !!! My son is five and I also hear a lot of poop jokes. Yuck! 🙂

  9. Somehow I missed this post. Glad I read it because it has positively made my day.

    My oldest recently wrote me a birthday card that said “You smell like an eliphint. it seems Like ite’s yer Birthday but ite’s youor bird-day! yYouer vouse smells like chicin winever you say Love!”

    Try reading that one out loud fluently when he’s standing over your shoulder, looking on proudly and waiting for the laughter…

  10. We seem to be lost in the land of atrocious knock knock jokes. My kids’ favorites lately are endless variations of the “interrupting cow” knock knock joke. Last week, my son decided the cow should interrupt by farting instead of saying “moo”. We all renamed it “inappropriate cow” and now the joke goes:
    “Knock, knock”
    “Who’s there?”
    “Inappropriate cow”
    “Inappropriate cow wh…”

    SNL, here we come

  11. I think your blog needs a section just for your daughters’ quotes and commentaries. This seriously had me laughing out loud!

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