knock knock

"Knock, knock."
"Who's there," my grandson asks, his voice squeaking with joy.
"Boo," I respond. "Boo who," he asks smugly.
"Don't cry little boy," I bleat out. Laughter from the back seat follows.
"It's still your turn, grandma."
"Oh, Ok, Knock, knock."
"Who's there," he asks sweetly.
"You," I declare.
"You who," he asks happily.
"Were you calling me," I ask, my voice filled with mock surprise?
More hearty laughter.
"Go again, grandma," he urges.
"Knock, knock," I say warily.
"Who's there," he responds confidently.
"Orange," I reply, searching through my limited repertoire of dusty knock knock jokes.
"Orange who," he asks, right on cue.
"Orange you glad I didn't say......................"
" banana," my daughter helpfully supplies.
"Orange you glad I didn't say banana," I trill.
His laughter fills the car.
"Oh grandma," he declares affectionately. "You're so funny."
I won't quit my day job.