Ugly-faced laughter is the best medicine.

 

They make me ugly-face laugh. And that’s a beautiful thing.

There are these girls I hang out with. No, not the one with the diaper and the one who begs me for just “one more” piece of Halloween candy that’s left in the bucket. The other girls. The grown ones. The ones I’ve grown up with, and am growing mature with. Although our lives are all slight variations of each other’s, we all live in the same town. We go to the same gas station. The same grocery store. The same veterinarian. But we have more than that in common.

Every month or so, we get together for a girls’ night out. We head the big city, all crammed in a crew cab truck. We pamper. Sometimes with pedicures, last night it was with massages. We eat. We drink. But most of all, we laugh. Me especially. It never fails. Last time, it was a misunderstood conversation. My friend thought I asked if her in-laws found her attractive. I don’t remember what I actually asked her, but the confusion was far better. I’m an ugly-faced laugher. When I really get going. I cry. I sometimes snort. I can’t help myself. I have to cover my face with a napkin. It’s bad. But it’s so good. It’s cathartic and mends that part of me that’s broken down by the monotony of daily life.

Last night, it was a story about a squirrel. I had no idea one of my best friends had been attacked by a crazy squirrel at our local zoo many years ago. It climbed in to her baby’s stroller, chomped down on the little 7-months leg, attacked my friend when she grabbed it, and was finally flung into the bushes by her husband. Funny then? No. Funny now? Yes. So funny. The way she told it. The zoo’s medics asked if she could give a description of the squirrel. So funny. (No major injures to report. Apparently squirrels can’t carry rabies.)

On the drive home, I told these girls that “nobody can make me ugly-face laugh like you do.” And they took it as a great compliment. But not before they told me they just thought that was my normal face. And then we laughed some more.

10 responses to “Ugly-faced laughter is the best medicine.

  1. Your adult life with friends reminds me of my teenage years. So glad you gals have kept up the friendship. When I talk to my best child hood friend, it is like….like we have never been apart, like we are still 16. Just with kids and jobs and husbands and mortgages.
    And btw I found youvia yeahwrite, I was checking out my other childhood friend’s row after reading my row. Its not cheating on my row if it is my friend’s row right? 🙂

  2. This is the best. I didn’t know what you meant in the title (I was picturing laughing AT someone’s ugly face) and now I totally know what you mean. Great description, and so nice to have friends like that! Most of my friends are too far to do that with, but I have a few, and the laughter is amazing. Definitely ugly. Sometimes I pee my pants.

  3. I so hear you the ugly faced laughing thing. It’s seriously cathartic. One of my favorite quotes is:

    “Maturity is a bitter disappointment for which no remedy exists, unless laughter can be said to remedy anything.” – Kurt Vonnegut

    And, honestly, I think laughter is pretty great balm, if not necessarily a remedy, for most things.

    Nice post!

  4. It’s 5am and I’m trying not to shake The bed to much
    as I giggle poor Luke I hope I don’t wake him up
    … The part about the zoo people asking your friend
    To give a description of the squirrel is soooo funnnny : )

  5. Oh I’m so jealous of your friendships. This sounds like something from Hollywood. Cherish those ladies well. Sounds like you do.

    So what DID the squirrel look like?

  6. Really makes me miss my friends. We’ve all grown older and moved on/away. You’re so lucky to still have them all so close!

  7. I just ugly laughed at this at work. It’s okay; they’re used to my weirdness. But seriously, a description of the squirrel? It wouldn’t have been funny to say it was black in a ski mask, huh? Probably not (although I am giggling. Sorry. Bad race jokes are just…bad. And now I’m giggling harder).

    1. It was black, how did you know? 😉 Seriously, though, it had some missing hair on its tail, so maybe they found him based on that!

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