First of all I have never approved of someone being pointed at and laughed at, especially little children. I think that is cruel. I have been the
object of this cruelty myself, when very young! I am sure there might be exceptions but….
1.) One time at Christmas, my dad was driving my 5 year old and me to my sister’s where the family was gathering. She was riding in the back seat
(43 years ago) sitting on the edge, no seat belt, singing and swinging her leg and foot. Suddenly she was very quiet then came over to behind me, in
the front passenger seat and wouldn’t say a word. When we arrived at my sister’s, my dad got out first, and then said, “Oh! I see the
problem”.
She had been swinging her foot as she sang and it went back and forth through her grandma’s lemon pie that was on the floor, along with other
goodies we were transporting. Her snow boot was covered with lemon filling and meringue, but I stopped my dad from laughing. She was sensitive and I
knew she would be very hurt. But my brother found out and began to tease her and she began to cry and I could have killed him, as she ran away, and
after that no one ever dared mention lemon pie to her again.
My mother was one to laugh at others’ misfortunes and I rather have that tendency, as long as the person is an adult and not hurt. As the years have
passed, I laugh more at myself now than anyone!
2.) Once I was driving in winter, but stopped at a flashing red light, awaiting all the cars with the flashing yellow to go through, downtown. As I
gazed around, I saw a guy walking, and *zap* he disappeared vertically, behind some parked cars on that street, then he came back up, from slipping
on the sidewalk, and looked all around to see if anyone had seen him fall. I could scarcely contain myself, but at least no one saw me laughing, and
he did rise again. He began to continue and *zap* disappeared again. That nearly did me in but had to drive on, as I now had the yellow flashing
light.
3.) My dad died at 4:30 a.m. and I went to my mother’s house. Another sister was there. We sat at the kitchen table-- August, warm, inside door
open, screened door closed----don’t remember the conversation, but he had had cancer, was in the hospital for 3 months after surgery, then my
mother looked after him for 3 months at home. I had seen him the day before, just a skeleton covered with skin and couldn’t talk--very difficult to
know what to say---certainly not crack my favourite jokes. While alive, friends would stop by the house and have a visit with him and Mom.
As we sat there, a truck drove up, a man wearing a fedora climbed out, came to the door, mom called to come in, he did, removed his hat and his
fingertips were clutching the brim, spinning it slowly, as he stood there. Then he asked “Well! How is the old guy?” She said, “Oh he’s
dead!”
I think he lost the use of his fingers, as his hat fell to the floor and he walked out the door without a word, to go back to his truck. We three sat
there, looked at his hat on the floor and began to laugh and it was so difficult to keep it low so as not have the sound carry through the screened
door to his truck.
I suspect there are times that “Laughter is the best medicine?”
Anyone have opinions or some off the wall funny stories
edit on 1-3-2013 by canadiansenior70 because: change word