I love to laugh.

I really  love a good hearty, uncontrollable laugh. It doesn’t happen to me all that often but when it does, watch out! It happened last night as Andrew and I were recounting an experience we had in Omaha before the kids were born. More about that in a second.

When I was a kid, I remember laughing out of control at the dinner table. So hard, in fact, that no one could understand me. I would try and try to explain what was so honkin’ funny but I couldn’t get it out of me. It hurts my side just thinking about it.

The same thing happens to Reed sometimes. The other boys every once in a while, but mostly to Reed. I feel for him – and at the same time, I realize how frustrating it must have been for my parents to have no idea why I was falling to pieces!

Okay, back to Omaha.

We moved there a few weeks after we got married. We didn’t know a soul. Andrew had a brand new job and I had a smelly, worn-down, furnished apartment at the lovely Twin Towers and a brand new husband who was out of town 75% of the time. In fact, he left to fly to D.C. the week after we arrived in Nebraska and almost didn’t make it back to the lovely Twin Towers in time for Thanksgiving.

The good news was that I found an amazing job right away. But it didn’t start until January 3rd and it was still November! Well, that left me plenty of time to drive around looking for a house and to learn my way around. It also gave me plenty of time to run errands – which I must say took a lot longer in Omaha than in Baltimore because all the merchants were so darn chatty. I remember taking shoes in to be fixed and not being able to politely leave for 15 minutes!

But I digress.

We had no friends out there at first. We’d go out to dinner or to the movies on the weekends. You couldn’t really do both because the restaurants closed early and you couldn’t go to a movie and then to dinner. (It’s changed a lot since then. I’ve been back a bunch of times since we moved away in 1999.)

One night, after dinner (it was maybe 8pm!) we had nothing to do. Somehow, and don’t ask me how or why, we just started following the car in front of us. We were ‘exploring’ the new town. The car turned right. We turned right. Straight. Left. Whatever. Well, we ended up in some apartment complex and the guy got out of the car and started walking to the building.

Obviously, we were just going to leave. But he came back and got back in his car. By now we were laughing our heads off. Should we follow him? Maybe he was some sort of spy. Or drug dealer. This was an adventure!

Sure, we got bored shortly after and realized that this might not be the safest hobby around. But we still laugh out loud when we think of that night.

Any odd adventures you’d like to share?

One thought on “I love to laugh.

  1. Just after my (first) divorce, one of my best friends and I took off, with Brian (then 5 years old) in tow for a vacation in Grand Haven, MI. We had a room across from the beach, with a balcony overlooking the boardwalk where cruisers ran a circuit with their cool cars. All single again, I gave flirting a shot when 2 handsome, way-too-young-for-me guys drove by. “Hi, guys!” I yelled.

    They looked up and smashed into the car in front of them, while Lori and I ran back and hid in our room.

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