Hey guys! I haven’t yet participated in the Daily Prompt exercise, but today’s prompt – “Giggle” – brought back such a vivid memory that I just felt like sharing it. Hope you enjoy this little snippet from my childhood 🙂
When I was a little girl, I diagnosed myself with “laughing disease”. At least three times a day, I would suddenly become seized by a vicious attack of the giggles, rendering me a useless, wobbling heap on the floor as my body shook with silent laughter. These “laughing spasms” (another professional diagnosis by seven-year-old me) sometimes went on for fifteen minutes non-stop, and I would emerge from them red-faced, exhausted and aching all over.
These fits left me dizzy and elated. My hilarity tank was constantly full. My entire family soon adopted the phrase “laughing disease” and would use it to explain to perplexed guests why I was convulsing on the carpet in the middle of their dinner party.
One day, my big sister and her friend from next door decided that it would be a good idea to squeeze a lemon into my eyes, “to see what happens” (…remember in my last post how I said my sister was my idol? Yeah, I’m starting to rethink that). They had pinned me down on the lawn despite my protests and were holding the offending lemon above my face, when suddenly, the giggles arrived in full force.
Newsflash: This was not a helpful time to have a laughing fit.
I began to shake uncontrollably with laughter, but inside my head I was screaming as the wedge of lemon loomed ever closer.
“Stop, stop, stop!” I managed to gasp between giggles, but my laughter only set them off and they proceeded to squeeze a torrent of lemon juice into my already-streaming eyes.
Another Newsflash: this hurts. This really hurts. This REALLY BLOODY FREAKING HURTS.
But still, I couldn’t stop laughing. I wanted to scream and cry, but it was completely beyond my control. I laughed for so long, eyeballs blazing, that my sister and her friend got bored with the experiment and went off to find a different game to play. The laughter eventually turned into bawling, but long after it was any use to me. That was the first and only time the relentless grasp of the giggles had betrayed me, which is why I remember it so vividly.
So there you go, that’s my anecdote for the day! These days, I am much more restrained. I don’t remember the last time I was seized by a genuine laugh, and that makes me pretty sad sometimes. I’d hate if my friends and family knew my laughter was forced. However, I don’t believe for one second that I am cured of my laughing disease. I think it’s in there somewhere, biding its time, and one of these days when I am feeling more like a person it’s going to burst out and take me by surprise.
And to be honest, I can’t wait.