Laughter - Hurts and Helps

Sunday morning, during church, I leaned over to Deanna who was sitting next to me and whispered in her ear,

"Itty-bitty man!"

She began to laugh. Then she responded with, "Buzz Lightyear!" That tickled me and I started to giggle.

Before long, the hilarity of the whole situation had completely taken over and we were laughing so hard, we were crying. In an effort to keep it under wraps, I glanced away from her, but just then, I heard Dane ask, "What are you two laughing about?"

Deanna responded with peals of barely-controlled laughter and gasped, "The guy in the cockpit!"

Dane started to smile and, soon after, began to laugh, as well. Within seconds, the two older children and I realized we wouldn't be able to stop if we didn't quickly get this under control. Again, I turned my head away from Deanna, only to realize after-the-fact that I had turned towards the woman in our congregation who wears a band-aid type thing on top of her hair. Deanna, thinking I was looking at something specific, turned that direction also, saw the woman, and burst out again. She leaned closer and whispered, "The 'solar panel'!"

I thought I was going to die of lack of oxygen. I couldn't get my breath. I was trying desperately to think of something sobering when I glanced towards the choir. The young girl who helps me with the Cherub Choir and whose younger sister is a close friend of Deanna's was watching our shenanigans and mouthed to me, "What?" For some reason, this also seemed funny. I thought I might have to leave the Service.

By this point, we were laughing so much, in a vague attempt at doing it silently, that I felt we were in danger of disrupting the Sermon. I whispered loudly to the children, "Pinch yourselves. Pinch yourselves," a technique I used when I was on the Debate Team in High School at those times when things just seemed funny out of proportion and I couldn't stop giggling. Somehow, the pain inflicted on oneself with a pinch has a way of refocusing your attention.

We made it through and all seemed to be able to get ourselves pulled together, but I realized this was one of those moments that define us as a family. We have fun together. We have so many inside jokes that no one else would understand that people think we're a little crazy. And they'd be right. But, gosh, do we have fun together.

I hope I always have the kind of relationship with my children that can result in humor so outlandish you have to fight for control and aren't quite sure at the moment if you'll succeed. I think moments like those will be remembered far longer than the cross words we had yesterday morning or the anger in my tone while giving correction. Fun is so much more memorable.