For this, I apologize.
I want you to know that I wish everything I write could be hysterical. Nothing makes me enjoy writing more than feeling like I can't type fast enough to get all the hilariousness out of my head, through my fingers, and onto the screen. Of course, sometimes what actually comes out was waaaaayyyy funnier in my head, but that's the risk we must take!
I shared this feeling with a friend recently and her response astonished me. When I explained how I felt compelled to be funny in every post, she observed that it was in my very nature to expect that of myself. In fact, it was revealed in my name.
What now?
Remember Sarah from the book of Genesis? When the Lord told her she would give birth to a son in her old age, how did she respond? She laughed.
And when that promised baby was born, he was named Isaac which means "he laughs." In fact, Sarah even says in Genesis 21, "God has made laughter for me; everyone who hears will laugh over me."
Sarah was a woman who responded to unbelievable things with laughter. So much was laughter a part of who she was that she literally birthed laughter.
My dear friend described all this to me and I was dumbfounded. Of course I feel responsible to be the bringer of laughter! Of course I'm most at ease when I am making others laugh and smile! Of course I feel a responsibility to bring forth laughter in everything I do!
Isn't that cool?
To follow up the somewhat serious tone of my earlier post, I give you this one to lighten the mood. After we watched the AFC and NFC championship games yesterday (and both the teams I was cheering for won!), my husband passed me his phone so I could watch this video.
I nearly died from laughter.
So if you have ever found yourself contemplating jumping off a bridge, even for a split second when the commercial for the ASPCA comes on with the Sarah McLachlan song comes on....this is for you.
(Yes, I realize the irony that this particular Sarah is not so much interested in birthing laughter, but far more interested in birthing guilt and self-loathing so that you run out the door and adopt a dozen shelter dogs. I never said my friend's theory was perfect.)
(Not that adopting shelter dogs is a bad thing, quite the opposite in fact. I'm just saying I'd rather not have to drive to the Human Society through hysterical sobs while on the phone with the suicide hotline because of a commercial.)
If you have ever cheered when Tom Brady throws an interception....this is for you.
If you've ever felt neglected, abandoned, or rejected with your palm or fist suspended mid-air....this is for you.
And if you are my mother-in-law, this is especially and most definitely for you.
So please. If you find yourself shopping at the Whole Foods in Boston and happen to run into this slightly-scruffy elite quarterback shopping for some coconut water for his supermodel wife, give the dude a high five. It's the least we can do, folks.
Money can't buy high fives, friends. Be an angel.
(I can't even handle it. So so soooooo funny.)
