This is a confession.
I have a bbbaaaaddd habit of thinking everything is funny. Even when things are NOT suppossed to be funny. I guess I was blessed with a wicked sense of humor and an evil mind. I generally can control my laughter when it's not appropriate to laugh, but sometimes I just can't help it.
I blame my mother. And her Father. And all the generations of Irish people with over-zealous senses of humor.
I went to a women's retreat with my mom and some of her friends (I'm not exactly sure WHY I thought it would be fun to hang out with people my mom's age, but it was). This is one of those retreats where everyone gets in touch with their "selves" and their God. It was also about how to make the best out of the hand you've been dealt and blah, blah, blah.
So day one goes by and everything is fine. Then comes day two. The day when the key-note speaker decides to really light a fire under us. She starts telling us about her uncle (or maybe her brother, I can't remember). At any rate, this relative of hers had been working under the car in his garage and it was getting dark, so he decided to light a lighter in order to see better. Can you see where this is going? Well, if not, I'll tell you. The guy started on fire. She was trying to make the point that even though he ended up being severly burned, he went on with his life and ended up being a motivational speaker or something.
All I could think of was this: "Who in the hell lights a lighter when they are under a car?" Apparently, my mother had the same thought and we made the mistake of looking at each other. Let the laughter begin. But, oh no! You have to laugh silently and try to cough to cover it up. Thank God we were sitting in the back of the room and at a table with people we knew (and who KNOW how we act). My mom got the giggles WAY worse than me. She had to put her head on the table, shoulders shaking, trying to be ever-so-quiet. I looked over and the woman to her left had put her hand on Mom's back in a comforting gesture. I guess she thought mom was crying. Which is when I TOTALLY lost it. We had to be seperated for the rest of the retreat. Sort of felt like Junior High School.
Lesson Learned? Make sure to sit wwwaaaayy in the back and near the door for a quick exit.
This post is for Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop - go check her out! I chose the 1st promt for today's assignment!