I was listening to trashy morning radio while driving the kids to school. Okay… stop judging. My Boys are 16 and 13. Old enough for trash in small doses, and I turned it off for my daughter’s car pool as soon as it was even slightly inappropriate. I usually listen to NPR but it was a rainy day and I need a pick me up. The news has been a RERAL downer. So anyways…while listening to trashy radio one story struck me. It was a story about video of Marie Osmond peeing herself on stage. The part that struck me was: she was laughing really, really hard, so hard she peed. Why is this kind of joy an embarrassment?
Shouldn’t we all be striving for that kind of joy?
Shouldn’t we covet the laughing pee release? When did we start being embarrassed for being human? For being one with the laugh?
I can remember the last time I peed myself laughing. It is such a wonderful memory. I was with my Friend Shawna. Our boys were good friends, and magically so were we. Shawna was nothing like me. She is religious. She is conservative. She is married to a Sheriff. She might like a house with blue carpet. But she got me. And I got her. We were best friends. Relationships like ours are hard to find as adults. As adults we are so busy: kids, errands, bills, family relationships that you hardly even want to maintain. Shawna and I were lucky because we were both at a place in life were we could find just enough time to be friends.
Actually our friendship was totally Shawna’s fault. She would always ask for our boys to have play dates that included moms. I remember complaining to my husband., in an annoyed voice that recalled fingernails on a chalkboard, “Why does she always want Mommy play dates?” Thank heavens she did. These forced mom involved play dates forged our friendship.
But back to the pee.
I remember I was sitting the driving seat. I do not remember what car, but it must have been my “Expresso” mini-van. What a stupid fucking name for a car. We were laughing. Shawna always made me laugh. I guess I did the same for her. I like to think I can be pretty funny sometimes. The actual conversation is gone from my mind, but the playfulness of the exchange still feels like yesterday.
First Shawna would say something.
Quickly I would respond.
“Stop, stop, please stop! “ one of us would squeal, holding our stomachs. Sniffling between the nearly constant giggles.
Then the tears and still more banter. I probably even snorted, because I do that sometimes when I laugh really naturally and really hard. You have to be really funny to get a snort. Laugh snorts are almost as good as laugh pee, but not quite.
“I am gonna pee. I AM GONNA PEE! Oh my… Stop... Please stop. “
But the laughter can’t stop when it is like this. The laughter makes laughter. The tears, the snorts: they are like an earthquake, causing laughter to go up greatly in magnitude.
“OH SUGAR!”
The fact that she said “sugar” instead of cussing made even more laughter.
Finally, the pee comes. Your whole self has let go to the joy. Nothing exists but the joy. You are a laugh with every cell. You and the laugh are one.
I love this moment.
Why would we then as a culture make a public mockery of this joy? I say “Lucky you Marie. I want that joy in my life.” I am so looking forward to the next time someone makes me pee. I truly love my husband; he makes me laugh all the time. Sadly, the most he has ever gotten out of me is a snort. He gets a good snort, but its only a snort. I am wanting the big prize! I want to laugh till I pee.
Today, Marie Osmond is my hero.
No comments:
Post a Comment