“What was the last thing that gave you a real, authentic, tearful, hearty belly laugh? Why was it so funny?” —The Daily Post.
The last time I really had a good laugh was earlier this year, during the spring semester. I had seen an article on Buzzfeed about girls who have b—- resting faces and it reminded me of my younger sister, who had been complaining of her own resting face a few days earlier. So I pulled up the article on my iPad and went to her room to show her. She finished up her drawing and came over on the bed to look at it. As she was scrolling through, she started laughing and laughing and then she was crying and then she was gasping for breath because it was so funny to her. I hadn’t found it that funny but seeing her laugh so hard made me laugh really hard and pretty soon, I too, was gasping for breath and clutching my stomach in laughter. We laughed together for a good bit and my sister had to put the iPad down in the middle of the article for fear she would lose her breath. We laughed ourselves out and then went back to the article and laughed some more and finally we made it through the article.
But what I love about that memory is that it wasn’t the article that made me laugh, it was my sister’s laughter that made me laugh.