It’s interesting to see children as they grow to understand the world and begin to get jokes. But it’s even more interesting when they start to make up jokes of their own.

Most of the time my children’s jokes are complete nonsense. For example, yesterday Lydia asked me, “What did the asteroid that hit the moon say to the asteroid that didn’t hit the moon?”

“I don’t know.” I said, “What did-”

“He said, it looks like I’m an asterROID, and you’re an asterWRONG!”

See? Nonsense. Never mind the fact that it’s also terribly inaccurate, scientifically speaking. I explained this to my daughter, but this apparently makes the joke “not funny”. Jokes like this grow on trees at my house. Joke trees growing out of the lost oranges and glasses of milk under their bed, rooted in taffy wrappers and popsicle sticks, feeding weird jokes into my daughters strange minds as they sleep their strange sleep.

Then, of course, there is my son, who also made up a joke yesterday, possibly his first joke ever, and I think it might have been a “fart joke”. Sigh.

I was trying to convince the kids to get ready for church and get in the car, when he asked me what I had said.

I scrambled back into the living room and hurriedly told him, “The car! I said go to it!” which was admittedly very confusing syntax, but Sunday mornings are frantic and sentence structure is not so important on Sunday mornings. “go to it!” I said.

He furrowed his eyebrows and fought to hold back a grin, “Go toot?”

“No. To. It. Go. To. It.”

He laughed and rolled backwards on the floor. “Daddy go toot.”

“Stop.”

He regained his composure for a second and pointed seriously at me, “Go toot, Daddy.” and then he broke down laughing again.

“Just get in the car, little dork.”

He shuffled out the door into the snow. A few minutes later we were at the church building and I was unbuckling him from his seat. He craned his neck to look around. “Where are we?”

“We’re at the church building.”

His eyes grew wide, “Oh! Go toot here, Daddy?” and then giggled uncontrollably.

I lifted him out of the car, “Okay, is this a ‘thing’ now?” I asked.

He just laughed and stomped his way through the parking lot, pumping his arms like a weirdo, singing “Toot toot toot! Daddy toot toot!”

I watched him go, tooting his way into the building along with his sisters. Deep down a part of me had never been more proud.