AN: I wrote this as part of what was originally intended to be a much longer fic. Looking at what few scraps I had for it, I've decided to scrap that project. This was by far my favorite segment of it and figured it could along as a longer drabble. Sorry for the child-speak if it bothers you, but I like the effect it adds.

"How was nursery school?" Ron asked, ruffling his daughter's brown hair. He sat down next to her at the kitchen table and snitched the last cookie from her plate.

"I made yots of friends," she said brightly, either not noticing or caring that her treat had disappeared. "We had all kinds of fun!"

Hermione clucked her tongue as she came into the kitchen. "Don't steal food, Ronald. You had fun, Rose? Your teacher said you orchestrated some trouble."

Having learned tactical diversions from her father, the four year-old wrinkled her nose. "What's orche-tated mean?"

"Orchestrated," her mother corrected. "It means you got your new friends into trouble."

"We on-yee sto' Mr. Creevey's wand," she protested. "We didn't use it."

Ron roared with laughter, but he quickly stifled it with a glare from Hermione. "You know, Rosie, it isn't nice to steal people's wands. A wizard's not used to going without one."

Her lip quivered. "I didn't mean to make troub-o. We thought it was funny."

"You know what else is funny?" Ron asked. "Jokes."

Hermione groaned as she picked up Rose's snack plate and carried it to the sink. "She just made friends. Don't make her lose them."

Ron ignored her.

"I can teach you some really great one-liners. Then when you want to be funny, you can tell one."

The small girl nodded, bouncing it her seat. "I yike that pyan, Daddy. Te' me one now!"

"Okay!" He rubbed his hands together and grinning, completely ignoring Hermione's shaking head. "How many wizards does it take to screw in a light bulb?"

"How many?" Rose asked.

"Two! One to put it in the socket and one to spin the room around it."

Eyebrows scrunched together, Rose replied, "I don't get it, Daddy. You or Mummy can do it by yourseff."

"We're special, sweetheart," Hermione said, smirking at the frustration on her husband's face.

"Fine," he grumbled. I guess I'll tell you another. "What do you call a Hufflepuff with two brain cells?" Without waiting for her to speak, he added, "Gifted!"

"Don't teach her those kinds of jokes!"

Hermione stomped over to her husband and smacked him lightly across the back of his head. For the first time, Rose giggled.

"Slapstick humor," he grumbled. Still rubbing his head, Ron turned again to their daughter. "Third times the charm. How does a witch stir her cauldron? She sticks the spoon in and lets the world revolve around her."

"Very dangerous territory," Hermione warned as she placed a pot on the stove. "You want dinner tonight, don't you?"

"How many Seekers to light a wand?" Ron asked, glancing at his wife to make sure this one was allowable. When he did not receive a glare, he said, "One who gets the credit while the rest of team made the wand and taught him the spell."

As gently as she could, Rose patted his arm and said, "You have yots of gifts, Daddy, but te-ying jokes isn't one of them."

His mouth hung open in shock while Hermione's peals of laughter rang through the house.