I pretend to be a pessimist. I enjoy and utilise sarcasm rather indiscriminately, I laugh cynically at Awkward Family Photos and People of Walmart, and can always be counted on to point out what could happen.
But it's all a front. I'm a shining optimist underneath that darkened cloak of pessimism, and sometimes laughter gives me away.
My favourite funny moments are the times when no one else is laughing. This is quite possibly genetic. My faraway sister and I later found out we giggled out loud in the cinema during the same unintentionally hilarious line in the Twilight movie sequel New Moon.
And I also have some confessions to make. I laughed silently and unstoppably during a funeral once because one of the hymns we'd just sung struck me as incredibly inappropriate. Inadvertently, many years ago, I laughed out loud when regaled with a sad tale about a deer hunter's fatal fall from a tree stand. Recently, I laughed as we stood outside our house after realising we had locked ALL our house keys INSIDE the house.
Because sometimes you just have to laugh at life.
Well, you don't have to, but I choose to.
Ha.
I love this. Indeed, we MUST laugh at life sometimes. I don't know how I'd get through otherwise!
ReplyDeleteSo true Erin, so so true. One of the funniest moments I recall was at my uncle's funeral. My 3 brothers and I had driven down to Weston-Super-Mare (aka Mud), and we came across a long line of what appeared to be parked cars. At the front of this line was a hearse - with my uncle's coffin in it. It seems they were waiting to go in to the crematorium. We were in hysterics, unable to stifle our chuckles in the service. Everyone must have thought we were totally disrespectful. I think my uncle, knowing the person he was would have been laughing with us.
ReplyDeleteLove your writing by the way - more please :)x
I think it is genetic. A few years ago I had to do a funeral for a young man who accidentally left the burner on the stove which eventually created such fumes that they overcame him in his sleep. The crowd at the funeral was far from solemn almost to the point I was suspicious. After my message, which was not an easy task at such an event, they proceeded to play a song entitled, "Prop Me Up Against the Jukebox When I Die". It seemed all propriety had left the building. I watched in wonder to see if anyone would take the singer up by, "putting sand in his boots and a stiff drink in his hand and prop him up against the jukebox" then and there. I could hardly contain myself especially since the funeral director in my plain sight was practically rolling in stitches as he watched my face.
ReplyDeleteLove it, Dad! :)
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