Everything is Funnier at Church

I love those times when something a little bit funny happens (like you accidentally blow a bubble with your gum and it pops, and then you're like oh crap, I'm in church, and it's also during communion; the quietest, most serious time, and about the worst time to accidentally pop a gum bubble) and then it's 100 times funnier because you know you can't laugh, and then the old, rickety pew you're sitting in starts shaking as you do because you're holding in this tremendous would-be-laugh and your eyes start to water and you feel like you should probably just fall on the floor and pretend you passed out because you can feel everyone's eyes on you.

This used to happen to my sister and I regularly. And then, one day, our church got those new-fangled soft, cushy chairs that hook together in different configurations. It was a bit of a let down because those cushy seats absorbed all the shocks of the laughter-holding and it wasn't quite a spectacle anymore. It was probably for the best.

Last night, Tom and I had a similar thing happen, except we weren't in church. We were in bed, trying to fall asleep, with Carter in his crib right next to us. Out of nowhere, in a moment of over-tired weirdness our conversation went a little something like this:

T: "I'm going to scratch you with my toe nail."
A: "What?"
T: "I've been cutting my toe nails into little points so I can scratch you at night."

Now, you're probably thinking, what's so funny about that? Well, at the time it was hilarious, really.


And the visual of Tom cutting his toe nails into little points got the best of us and we started laughing so hard we thought we were going to have to leave the room because Carter started flipping from side to side. And during that moment when I was smothering my face in my pillow, trying not to make a sound, all I could think was good thing this isn't communion.