It is good, don’t you agree, to make people laugh? It suggests you are a person who brings joy to others, who is good to be around, the life and soul (even) of the party.
The trouble is, there are times when you make people laugh hysterically until the tears come to their eyes - without ever meaning to do so. That’ll be me, then.
This week Mr B and I have had the pleasure of the company of the Youngest of the Darling Daughters who once again arrived at ours to “bubble” with us, as allowed by Boris et al. Although it is but a couple of weeks
since her last visit (she is extremely loyal when it comes to bubbling) I still had plenty I wanted to tell her about. Nothing particularly exciting, to be honest, but then what is in these pandemic-dominated days? Just things like my progress on my latest
jigsaw puzzle (I am storing up puzzle-related stories for a future blog - just to give you advance warning) and my new shampoo and conditioner which promises to help me grow grey (dis)gracefully. Time will tell.
I also wanted to tell her all about the new year-long Healthier You programme I have embarked upon. For some reason I have been made a member of the Greater Manchester Team, despite living on the south coast, but when all
meetings are on-line location hardly matters, does it? Our virtual meetings are held fortnightly and between each meeting we participants are encouraged to set ourselves a target - a small, achievable step which by the time the fortnight was up, would have
become a good habit. You know it makes sense.
I set myself the target of drinking three large glasses of water a day, one first thing in the morning, one
with lunch and one with my evening meal. This, I estimated, would be my two litres of water a day. I’d measured out three glasses of water which filled my Pyrex jug twice over so I knew I was right.
The Youngest of the Darling Daughters looked doubtful when I relayed this information to her so I fetched the measuring jug out of the kitchen cupboard and filled it to the top. There you are, I told her triumphantly. Which
was when she pointed out that it was a one pint jug - or, to put it another way - a half-litre jug. I was drinking exactly half as much as I thought I was.
to conquer my disappointment and thought I had covered up my inadequate measuring skills quite well till it came to dinner time. There we were sitting round the table discussing pizzas (as you do.) I was explaining how Mr B and I generally share a medium sized
pizza between us. What I failed to explain was that the pizza we would order would be half a Chicken Feast (for me) and half a Mighty Meat (for Mr B.)
I drew an imaginary circle on the table to represent our pizza, telling her: “So Dad will have half a pizza - and I will have half a pizza...” It was, had I but realised it, a case of stating the (insert appropriate mild expletive) obvious. Cue
laughter. Much laughter. Not just any laughter but proper tears-in- the-eyes laughter. “We learnt fractions in Infants School!” spluttered my daughter in between gasps. She kept re-tracing my invisible half-circle diagram over and over on the tablecloth
and setting us both off into the giggles again.
It’s by no means the first time - indeed it is rare that the Youngest of the Darling Daughters and I get
together for a couple of days without experiencing at least one bout of helpless laughter. One of us only needs to utter those immortal words “the fire’s gone out...” for us to be doubled up with laughter as we remember Dave Allen’s
sketch, an example of comedic genius. Well, most people will find that funny - but lots of the things that make us laugh so long and so loudly would probably have others witnessing our heroics shaking their heads in wondering disbelief.
Laughter really is the best medicine, a true tonic. When shared with a Darling Daughter, it is a gift beyond measure...