Sunday, September 27, 2015

What's So Funny!?

   As I look back on posts from this blog, I am amazed at how funny I kind of used to be. What happened to my funny way of thinking?  Does it even exist any more? I think I used humor as a coping mechanism when I had no time to myself, screaming little children were my only companions, and when I was in a lot of physical pain.  Those days are pretty much over for me.  I have time to myself every day while my kids are in school, I don't have chronic pain anymore, and I go on regular dates with my husband, and out to lunch with my friends.  So, maybe I don't NEED the humor anymore.
   But can I still want it? I surely have a funny bone still left in me.  I mean, I have humor in my genes. My dad tells a joke at least every day to any one who will listen... although some are probably not really listening.
   So I am going to attempt to write on occasion, funny memories or thoughts I may have. Beginning right now with a story I remember from a time when I shared a bedroom with two of my three younger sisters.  It was a glorious time, full of memories and conflicting personalities and raging hormones.  Ah, I remember it well.  Our parents were so kind to give us the master bedroom of the house, since there wasn't a lot of room for three kids in the other room, (I think back and they should have NOT been that nice to us - but they were). We had a set of bunk beds against one wall, and then coming at an L shape, the other bed was arranged.  That single bed was mine, and my head was right at the same end as my sisters who were on the bunk beds.
    Well, one night one of my sisters (maybe she was about 10 or 11 at the time) became sick to her stomach.  Well, I can see you don't want me to finish the rest of the story by the look I imagine on your face, BUT let's just say it was an easy clean up for my sister's bed, since she didn't want to get her own self and bedding dirty.  She must have forgotten where she was at the time, or at least where I was, because when she leaned over her top bunk, she puked ALL over my face.  And I didn't wake up.
    My very vivid memory of that night was my parents saying to me, "Emily, DO NOT open your eyes or mouth, and go get in the shower." It is the memories like this that seem crazy and hard at the time, but later make the best stories.  What are you enduring today that will be a laughable memory in the future?

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