Fork drops

This is probably a case of funnier if you were there, but since this blog is just as much for me to remember as it is for me to tell other people, you'll just have to suffer through.  Happened over the hurricane weekend.

Scene:  eating dinner - pork chops, salad, watermelon.

Z - Have chicken?
Me - It's not chicken, son.  It's pork.  Mommy made pork chops for dinner.
Z - Fowk chops?
Me - That's right, pork chops.
Z - (points at fork) Fowk, (points at pork) fowk chops.
Me - Pork, buddy, with a P.  Pork chops.
Z - Fowk chops.
Me - Okay, what you said.

Next day:  eating lunch - fruit, crackers, the carrots from my chicken pot pie.
Z - Have a fowk?
Me - We don't have any more forks.  You dropped all the forks, now all the forks are dirty.
Z - Fowks dropped?
Me - Yes, the forks dropped on the floor.
Z - Have fowk drops for lunch?  Pwease?


(I hear crickets...like I said, probably funnier if you were there...)