Humor, Ha-Has and Little Things

March 27, 2012

T-MINUS 3 DAYS

Last night while brushing my teeth I got caught up in a gale of giggles over something that wasn't really THAT funny. I laughed and laughed; even a few tears sprouted from my eyes. When the giggling subsided, the realization dawned on me that residual hysteria from nearly blowing up my house yesterday morning had manifested itself in the form of laughter. Heavens. I am one blessed woman. The Universe looks out for me even in my deathly airheaded moments. I am utterly humbled and grateful to be able to laugh at my complete numbskullery. I will take every shot Ben (or anyone else for that matter) wants to fire at me in some variation of "Why'd you almost blow up the house?" I deserve it. Life lesson learned - thankfully with no collateral damage.

I also got a-thinking (dangerous, I know!) about the rest of yesterday. I wasn't inordinately on edge but I did take more pleasure in the little things. All those cute toddlerisms (calling a diaper "dahp-a-dee" or her blanket "gan-ket") that Shiloh exhibits daily were more adorable, the flowers blooming in my garden were more beautiful - even the pile of laundry that I'd normally want to torch wasn't such a chore. Maybe because I'd almost torched my house I could just revel in the lovely lavender scent left by the detergent, and be glad to have clean clothes to fold, instead of sifting through the rubble of a crumbled home.

Since my immediate reaction to an intense situation or a near-catastrophe that I almost bring to pass is to bury it deep, I didn't notice my gratitude throughout the day. Laughing at the bathroom sink just before bed opened my eyes. Now that I could laugh, I could process.

It has been posited that laughter is the best medicine. I believe that humor is the best medicine. Laughter is the end result of humor. If there is no humor to be found, I see no point in, well, all of it. Humor brings light to darkness. It has the power to heal. And for one like me, who deals with things on her own, being "shown the funny" means everything will be okay.

I love laughs - especially baby laughs. The widdle-biddy infant giggles are the cutest. Now that Shiloh is no longer widdle-biddy, her shrieks reach pitches I thought reserved only for dogs. And my raspy-voiced Isaac emits an endearing chortle when his funny bone is tickled. And like most males his age the funniest things of late have to do with butts and poo.

Since humor is so important to me, it pleases me to no end when I can elicit laughs from everyone around me. It's wonderful that my friends and family find me amusing (and not just to look at) - or they put up a good pretense! I try to show everyone I love the funny....

WHAT'S FOR DINNER?

This dinner (a Giada creation, of course! Can't wait until Friday!) is a favorite of mine and Ben's. He says it's one of his favorite comfort foods. A bowl full of hugs, I'll call it. It's so simple to make. And even though I pride myself on my self-control, there has been more than one occasion where I've eaten most of it. Not in one sitting, of course. But Ben is usually home at least an hour after dinner is done, so it will sit on the stove taunting me until he arrives. After devouring my one bowl at dinner, I'll go back to the stove periodically with my shovel - er - fork and pick at it. It's not a favorite of Isaac's as he isn't a fan of the beans. But that's okay - more for us. The mascarpone (say it with me MAH-SCAR-PONY!) is so light and creamy; and I always add a few shakes of crushed red pepper to the turkey sausage while it cooks as my tolerance for spicy is greater than most. Also I use whole wheat EVERYTHING whenever possible. I was thrilled to find whole wheat orecchiette in my local Shaws, as that was one of the pastas I could NEVER find a whole wheat version of in the store here is what it looks like: