Inappropriate Hysterical Laughteritis


         
Lauri Meyers Children's Book Writer
Let's just assume I was
allowed in the deer enclosure.
   I was a tomboy growing up.  I had an older sister, so all the girly skills were already taken.  She cooked with my mom, while I was out in the garage with my dad pounding nails into a board to make a pretend cash register.  While she was learning to clean; I was learning to mow the grass.

            As a result I got to live on the wild side.  My dad brought me up on the roof while he was installing new shingles.  I was one.  (He says I was in a box, so it was okay. I got stuck in a box a lot.)   He let me make Rice-a-Roni at the hot stove sitting on a stool.  I was four.  He propped me on the railing outside the gorilla enclosure at the zoo.  We'll pretend there weren't signs back then, but I suspect there probably were.   

            I got to ride on the back of his bike without a bike seat or helmet.  One day he was taking me to an evil day care where children were forced to eat peas with plastic silverware (more on this later).  It was winter, but we only had one car at the time.  Not surprisingly, we slipped on the ice and the bike fell over.  I was half trapped under the bike in the snow crying.  My dad was trying to pick up the bike, but he couldn't do it because he was laughing so hysterically. 

            Even though it was a traumatic event, I have never been able to tell the story with the anger it deserves because I start laughing hysterically.  I could tell of 20 other events which all included my dad uncontrollably laughing.  Luckily, it never happened while I was propped up on a railing of a wild animal enclosure.  This inappropriate laughter appears to be a genetic trait.  

            Leaving a lunch date, my 2-year-old ran into the door (um, we also have a clumsy trait).  My friend distracted by the screaming missed her kiddo walk into a puddle in her socks and also begin screaming.  Then getting into the car my 4-year-old somehow wedged her foot under the seat.  I yanked while she screamed.  I excavated the backseat of dolls, coloring books and empty juiceboxes to figure out how she was stuck.  I was laughing so terrifically at this point, I could barely do anything. 

                Oh, the memories!  I hope my girls will laugh when they tell all the stories about their childhood tragedies.  Maybe the memory of me laughing will remind them the situation couldn't have been that bad.

Comments

  1. smile - we lived in a different era; benign neglect, but could go anywhere, play anywhere; i'm sure they'll value your stories; you sound like a neat mom

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    1. I could ride my bike all the way to the 7-11! Until it had some bullet holes in the window. We moved shortly after that.

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  2. Here's some inappropriate laughter for you:

    When my grandfather died, my dad gave the funeral home a suit for him to be buried in. On the day of the funeral, when my uncle Tony (dad's brother) peered into the casket for the first time, he was enraged.

    "You dressed him in my new suit!" Uncle Tony uttered through gritted teeth.

    And Dad was in hysterics for the next 15 minutes.

    Fortunately, when Dad gets on a laughing fit, it looks a whole lot like crying. So the unsuspecting relatives in attendance thought Dad was filled with crippling grief.

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    1. Oh Man! Hopefully he didn't consider getting his suit back.
      You hit on a critical element - the hysterical laugh is part crying part laughing - which is what prevents the person at the wrong end of the laughter from walking away angrily.

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  3. Lauri, I can attest to your comments, the inappropriate laughing IS genetic! My worst fear is being seated with people walking toward me (think of being on a plane) and someone tripping. I can't help but laugh maniacally! And who can forget when I was walking in a mall with my Mom who was holding a soda and fell. I was completely unable to help her up due to being doubled over with laughter. I continued to laugh while strangers came over to help. I was too weak to do anything but watch. And the worst part is when laughing really hard I sometimes snort a little. And I can picture your Dad laughing as described in your blog - have seen it many times! Your loving Aunt You Know Who!

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    1. Oh Aunt You Know Who, that reminds me of a story someone told me about some bride hysterically laughing while walking down the aisle.
      And I snort too.

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    2. I think I started off crying at my wedding, then laughing hysterically, then more crying. Just nerves. Your description of your Dad was great. He is NOT politically or socially correct in ALL the decisions he makes, which is amazing for someone with his superior intellect! But he's willing to step out of line and have some fun and we all love him for that, even if sometimes it is like going places with a small child, "they said don't touch that...". He also steals your food if you're not looking. But he and your Mom did a great job raising you to be strong, independent and joyful!

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    3. Ah yes, his food thievery resulted in my favorite quote from the kids: "Get your own one!"

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  4. These are great! I love these moments. I try to make it out of the room before I laugh at my kids for things, but I don't always make it. ;)

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    1. Just yesterday my 4yo backed up into an open cooler, falling completely into it, while the bowl of rice krispies she was carrying flew into the air like it was snowing. Luckily, I was laughing so hard that no sound was coming out of my mouth. As I sent the poor thing with a cold wet bottom to her room for fresh clothes, the pent up sound finally let loose! These girls are like watching the Three Stooges right in my kitchen.

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  5. P.S.: You should write memoir. This was flipping hilarious!

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  6. I am the queen of inappropriate laughter! There is just something about slapstick that sets me off. I can't even begin to count the times when my kids have tripped/fallen/crashed and I have to calm myself down before I can even ask "Are you ok?" During my son's kindy graduation, one little kindergartner was so enraptured with the sea of adults in the audience that he walked headlong into the stage. He was ok, but I nearly had to leave the ceremony due to my inappropriate laughter! Glad to see I'm not the only one!

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    1. Oh that is naughty! Some of those kids learn to just jump up and egg on the laughter. I think they become stand up comedians.

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  7. This blog entry is so true. Sometimes I think you write your blog entries with a little bit of exaggeration and maybe some sarcasm (not in a bad way, in a way that enhances the readers experience). However, this blog entry is spot on. One thing I will alway remember about you is your laughter. You were always laughing; usually it occured at an appropriate time, however I can remember many instances when it occured at an inappropriate time. Reguardless of when it occured, it often seemed to be infectious to the people around you. Just as you alluded to in your writing, maybe the inappropiate laughter is the very thing that made the traumatic experiences seem not so traumatic. I say never stop laughing and smiling.

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    1. Always a little sarcasm, but I can attest this particular post is the real stuff. I suppose I learned to cook and clean a little too. But not very well. Always keep laughing!

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