8th July 2006 - Knock knock.

My daughter – who’s now 2 and a half – has discovered the joys of the knock knock joke. Word of warning here – if there are people around you suffering from any form or degree of dementia, do not try and engage them in any sort of banter that requires appropriate responses at any time. This was Ellie's mistake. With the determination and lack of flagging spirit that is so joyously present in a toddler, she was bloodymindedly trying to tell a Knock knock joke today. If ever GroundHog Day existed – it is in a care home. The exchanges went like this…..

Ellie – “Papa, Knock knock”

Papa – no response

Ellie “Papa, Knock knock. You say who’s there”

Papa “Is there someone at the door”

Ellie “Papa, Knock knock. You say who’s there. Joke, I make a joke”

Papa “Why don’t they ring the bell. No hang on, there’s a buzzer here isn’t there?”

Ellie “Mummy, tell Papa knock knock”

Me “Dad, Ellie’s telling you a joke, a Knock knock joke.”

Papa “It’s no joke, there are people trapped out there. That’s always the trouble with you, you never take anything seriously unless it concerns you. Selfish”

Me “Who’s there?”

Ellie “Justin”

Me “Justin who?”

Ellie “Justin time for tea!” “Joked ya!”

Papa “Justin who?” “I don’t know anyone called Justin. Or do I. Hang on, I do. That’s me isn’t it? I’m Justin. Am I trapped outside too?”