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I love it when my wife laughs uncontrollably. It’s sort of like getting a basketball to bounce when it’s sitting still. You have to work hard at first to get it to bounce a few centimeters off the ground, but if you keep working it you can make it bounce as long and as high as you want.
Once you get Michelle going, you can work it and keep her laughing until she about passes out from lack of oxygen. The things that seem to make her laugh the hardest is when I act like an idiot and make a fool of myself. I guess because normally I'm just too-cool-for-school and in control.
This past spring when we were on vacation in Destin FL one of those occasions happened.
Our girls drive us nuts by always competing to push elevator buttons. According to them there are two distinct kinds- inside buttons and outside buttons. If one is lucky enough to push one of them, they are forbidden from pushing the other so that one of the remaining 3 girls has a chance to push a button. It’s amazingly important to them- not sure why.
Most places they push and shove to position themselves walking down a hallway to get to the elevator first to push the button without breaking into an actual run and bringing about the wrath of Mom or Dad… “Stop running! You’re gonna fall and break your neck!”
On one evening, leaving our beach condo and heading to dinner, I whispered to Michelle while we waited for the elevator to arrive on the 4th floor - “Watch this…when the elevator opens I’m going to charge in and push the inside button.”
The bell dinged. The door opened. And I, a large 6 foot 2 inch man charged into the elevator pushing and shoving my lovely and petite 4 girls to the left and right like a massive linebacker breaking through the line to attack a quarterback. The girls were shocked and surprised as their little bodies were thrown aside, and their dad victoriously broke through and pushed the inside button with a war cry of victory.
The man from the 5th floor that was inside the elevator looked like he was about to soil his pants. I said hello sheepishly. We all got on the elevator and rode down to the lobby in silence.
By the time we got in the car Michelle was laughing so hard she was crying.
Most places they push and shove to position themselves walking down a hallway to get to the elevator first to push the button without breaking into an actual run and bringing about the wrath of Mom or Dad… “Stop running! You’re gonna fall and break your neck!”
On one evening, leaving our beach condo and heading to dinner, I whispered to Michelle while we waited for the elevator to arrive on the 4th floor - “Watch this…when the elevator opens I’m going to charge in and push the inside button.”
The bell dinged. The door opened. And I, a large 6 foot 2 inch man charged into the elevator pushing and shoving my lovely and petite 4 girls to the left and right like a massive linebacker breaking through the line to attack a quarterback. The girls were shocked and surprised as their little bodies were thrown aside, and their dad victoriously broke through and pushed the inside button with a war cry of victory.
The man from the 5th floor that was inside the elevator looked like he was about to soil his pants. I said hello sheepishly. We all got on the elevator and rode down to the lobby in silence.
By the time we got in the car Michelle was laughing so hard she was crying.
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