Laughing in Church

I turned 62 last week.  I'm ready for social security.  I have been a high school principal.  I am responsible, mature, kind, and orderly.

My mother has banned me from ever sitting by my brother, Jim, in church.

I don't mean to laugh.  I just do.

It is awful, it is embarrassing, it is the type of laughter that shakes the pew.

He doesn't have to do one thing.

I start laughing.  AND if he eggs me on, by say, lifting one eyebrow, I completely lose it.  I laugh silently until my insides shake and hurt.  I laughed when he was being sworn in as a judge because he smirked at me.

I have been known to cover my face with my hands and pretend I'm weeping-- WRONG!  That is so, so wrong.....but it worked at my grandmother's funeral when it looked like Uncle Justin had a flame sprouting from his head.  Jim shouldn't have whispered, "Uncle Justin, the Candle."

My mom had a stare that could wither a grown man.  It never helped.  This ban has been in effect 50 years.

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I think God understands.  I hope he understands.  I know he understands.  He made me.

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I have laughed at inappropriate times my entire life.  Graduations, births, funerals, weddings, superintendent meetings, faculty meetings....I have an ultra-sensitive sense of humor.  Some people say that it's nerves.....nah, I think I just like to laugh.  I can't blame it on anything except poor self control.

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Yes, I laugh at tv shows and movies that are funny-- but to me, real life is 100% funnier.

I was having a focused reading group with a bunch of 10 year olds.  I asked, "Do any of you have any questions?"

A little guy looked at me and said sweetly, "Have you ever seen moth balls?"

I answered, "Sure."

 Without missing a beat he piped up, "How did you get his little legs apart?"

I excused myself.  Got up.  Walked into the hall.  And howled.

I rest my case.