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Change. I've learned to embrace it, ride it out til the end. Sometimes I'm kicking and screaming, other times weeping with my eyes clinched tight. Once in awhile I ride like a dog in a car, head out the window snorting what life has to offer. Mother to young adult children, a marriage of thirty years, and a desert to mountain to valley waltz with God have shaped me into someone I never imagined I'd be. Life is short and I want to live it. Tears, sighs, laughter and change. Every morsel granted to me. Scrambled, shaken or stirred.

Thursday, August 03, 2006

Scribbles and Scrambles - Funny Pizza

I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned my penchant for humor induced hysteria. Hysteria that leaves me breathless and teary-eyed randomly occurs. My family is used to it even though they haven’t a clue what might set me off.

For that matter, I don’t have a clue. My funny bone is particular and all inclusive if that’s possible. It must be possible, because that’s what I’ve got.

You can read about some of the things that have set me off in the past.
The rhyme http://kellyklepfer.blogspot.com/2006_05_05_kellyklepfer_archive.html
Movie humor http://kellyklepfer.blogspot.com/2006_05_02_kellyklepfer_archive.html

I may have met a fellow sufferer of “laughysteria” last night.

I didn’t actually meet her.

Let’s just say she assaulted me and leave it at that.

It started out innocently enough.

Doesn’t it always?

Nanny girl (daughter number 1) and I snuck out to our favorite hometown pizza joint for some quality time and the best pizza ever.

A three person family occupied the booth behind us. The female seemed to be seriously discussing something that should be noted by the child. In our home we refer to this as lecturing. Our lectures are usually assigned numbers if the children feel adventurous.

Suddenly, a subtle thwack alerted me to the possibility that I had been struck with a straw wrapper. Before I could turn around to confront my attacker, I heard something that reminded me of the very beginning of my own descents into hysterical madness. Laughter. And it wasn’t the controlled type you usually hear in public.

She might have gasped an apology, I couldn’t tell with all the tee-hees and hee-haws. Several times the sound changed as she fought for control and wobbled on the bench. She didn’t quite have the Smedley “har,har,har” down. But not all of us can be gifted in the Smedley. It takes years of practice and perfect timing.

While this poor woman dissolved, I struggled with the bubbling urge to join her.

Fortunately, I remained strong. I would’ve hated to show her up. Even if she did start it.

1 comment:

Heather Smith said...

LOL! I'll never forget the time that a large group of us were at cracker barrel. The men started balling up straw wrappers and shooting them out of the end of the straw. One went up a guy's nose, and it wouldn't come out. He was finally able to blow it out later that night at the concert we all went to! It was hilarious!