Lewis is forking giant scoops of yogurt, somewhat elaborately, into his mouth. Catching my eye, he says with a sheepish smile, "This is a backhoe"--meaning the fork. "Ah," I say. "But what are you?" "Well, I'm a dump truck," he replies. "But," I say, laying my finger upon the inconsistency, "you are closing your mouth around the fork and dump trucks can't do that." After a moment's thought he explained, "Well, it's a dump truck with a tailgate."
***
Two exchanges:
Peter: Nelly, eat your food.
Nelly, staring at her full plate: Where is it?
~
Peter: Nelly, what did I tell you to do?
Nelly, interested in the answer and leaning forward conspiratorially: What?
***
Nelly, looking through the joke book: Knock-knock, Mama.
Me: Who's there?
Nelly, changing her mind and turning the page: Never mind. [On a new page] Knock-knock, Mama.
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