The Best Laughter

The best laughter is when you’re curled into it, unable to breathe. You can’t stop, even when you try.

Maybe you’re in church, or at a work meeting. You’re not supposed to be laughing which makes laughing even more desirable.

Especially if somebody of authority gives you The Look.

You stop laughing. You’re not disrespectful, after getting the look, and all.

Calm your breathing.

You’re in control.

Your laughter was inappropriate.

Contain the next burst with a fake cough.

Because you’re laughing and can not help it.

You tell yourself “this is NOT that funny,” which somehow just makes it all that much more funny.

Start laughing all over again.

I love feeling the best laughter. So much.

I want more of it. More laughter.

For me.

For my son.

For all of us.

Maybe, if we all laughed more often, the world would feel less broken.

Crap.

Think about the brokenness of the world.

Cry a little.

Remind yourself that this is about laughter, not crying.

Call yourself a dumb baby.

Tell yourself you’d be so sad to hear your son call himself a dumb baby. Take your advice and stop calling yourself a dumb baby. It’s okay to cry over stuff that’s sad.

But this is a blog post about the best laughter. It’s not supposed to be about crying or calling yourself a dumb baby.

Remind yourself that this is about the best laughter.

Laughter that heals.

Laughter that bonds.

Laughter that melts the ickiness of the world away.

There’s no ickiness in belly laughs.

There’s only joy in laughter.

Hope.

Abandon.

I want more of the best laughter.

For me.

For my son.

For all of us.

When my husband and I were newly dating, we ate take-out in front of the TV one night. Somehow, we landed on a show about beavers.

It was interesting enough, until there were two beavers acting a weird. “What are they doing?” I asked. “Do beavers fight?”

“I have no idea,” he said. The beavers looked angry. A little scary, even.

We watched.

Ate.

Watched.

“Ohhhhhh….” I said, just as he started to laugh.

We realized at the same time exactly what those beavers were doing and I don’t know if it’s because he and I were new, or if seeing beavers have sex over take-out is hilarious enough in itself, but I ended up unable to keep myself on the couch with the holding-my-stomach, catching-my-breath laughs.

I want that best laughter more.

For me.

For my son.

For all of us.

The moral of tonight’s story? When the ickiness of the world is overwhelming, and people are cruel to one another (which they are and will be and always have been), let’s flick off the news channel, and find a show about beavers.

Maybe, just maybe, you’ll reach for the remote because beavers fighting is too much on top of all the stuff about guns and kids and kids with guns and instead, you’ll keep the channel where it is and laugh until you fall on the floor when you realize the beavers are in love.

Maybe, just maybe, you’ll reach for your loves, and decide to play a game that makes you laugh. Maybe, even, you’ll let your son stay up, and decide to laugh in the dark with him.

No matter what though, let’s each decide to laugh more now, and tomorrow, and every tomorrow.

***

This was a Finish the Sentence Friday post, in its new format, where this week is a five-minute stream of consciousness post with the prompt of “Laughter.” All night long, I thought “How hard can this be? It’s only 5 minutes!” and then found it really hard.

I cried a little bit, about how little I’ve laughed the best laughs recently. I had nothing to say because I’m stressed out about the fact we’re likely moving to Colorado this summer, and I don’t know how I feel about that, and I don’t feel like laughing. I then went to the dark places of whether we’re giving our son enough laughs, whether I’m giving myself enough… all that.

So, while it was supposed to be a 5-minute thing, I, instead read some funny posts that made me feel like laughing. Like this New Yorker one that’s brilliant, and also this one that’s totally stupid but made me laugh without abandon when I wrote it. OMG I knew nothing about blogging back then. I sometimes wish I still only wrote what made me laugh or cry.

Whoah.

Anyway, this is a Finish the Sentence Friday post, held with my fabulous, amazing co-host Kenya Johnson of Sporadically Yours.