Banana you glad I didn't say Orange again?

Darling: Knock, knock.

Me: Who's there?

Darling: Orange.

Me: Orange who?

Darling: Knock, knock.

Me: Who's there?

Darling: Orange.

Me: Orange who? (sigh...)

Darling: Knock, knock.

Me: No, I don't want to play this any more.

Darling: MOM! Knock, knock!

Me: Who's there??

Darling: Banana

Me: Banana who?

Darling: Banana you glad I didn't say Orange again?

This is Darling's best joke. And her favorite. I know, it doesn’t make any sense, and she's doing it backwards. That, she tells me, is the point and what makes it funny. What can I say? I fail to see the humor.

This morning Darling and I hit the ground running, leaving the house at 6 am so that we could drive to the town of Silverdale and pick up some rubber mats for the horse stalls. City Boy had found them for sale on Craig's List, and they were about 25% the price you'd pay new, so it was worth the long drive and ferry ride to get there.

However, I'm not so sure it was worth suffering through Darling's knock knock joke. Again. And again. And again. So, to keep her otherwise occupied, I handed her my camera.

Darling behind the lens. And in the rearview mirror.

Darling was born with a genetic disorder. It affects half of the family, really. It's camera-itis. My grandmother has it. For years she carried the latest model of Polaroid camera with her to all the family functions. It was such fun to see those instant pictures! My mother and uncle are long time sufferers. My uncle's case is so severe that he's opened up a professional studio. For a while it appeared I'd escaped this malady, but I’m really just a late bloomer. And now Darling has it. She has her own camera, but if I even begin to loosen the grip I’ve got on mine, she snatches it away and begins snapping shots of anything that passes in front of her lens. All I can say is “Thank God for digital!”

To further amuse the child, I offered to let her select the photos that would be used on this post. She was delighted. I told her, however, that there was one condition. She agreed to my trade.

Darling took pictures of everything. Her favorite subject is herself. That amused her while we were waiting in line for the ferry.

Darling's feet. Darling has Converse shoes. Darling loves shoes!

Then she took photos of the scenery as we were crossing Puget Sound.

View from the ferry across Puget Sound.

Big Blue Boat.

And she danced. She danced the Thriller dance. In public.

You try to scream but terror takes the sound before you make it

You start to freeze as horror looks you right between the eyes,
You're paralyzed

That was fun. Let's do something else now.

Then, I became the target. She took pictures of my feet. She took pictures of me trying to nap. She took pictures of me pretending to nap, thinking I didn’t know she was taking pictures. And I was beginning to miss the knock knock jokes! However, the thought of the trade off was too good, so I played like a good sport.

Aren't my feet cute? Ariat boots; you just can't beat them!

Yes, Darling, I can see you. That's why my tongue is hanging out!

Yes, I always sleep with this expression on my face.
It's what keeps City Boy so enchanted!

Just keep telling yourself...remember the trade off...remember the trade off!

On our way home, we stopped at Uncle Warthog and Aunt Alice’s home. Uncle Warthog had some family history to share with us. He challenged us to find anyone who had a relative here in WA State before we did, as it appeared that Pierre Chartier showed up back in the 1820’s. That was a blinking long time ago! Long before the Oregon Trail. He’s been working for years on the family history, and if you’re into genealogy like Darling and I, it’s fascinating!

Oh, and Darling’s and my little trade off? Here it is.