Last night I had one of the best belly laughs I had in months. Brian reluctantly joined me to watch a very strange amateur cake bake off on the Food Network, and the show took a very strange turn at one point. The comments he made upon seeing one woman's sagging cake layers sent me into absolute hysterics. It looked as if she had put on a blindfold and hucked frosting at it. It was actually bald in most spots, and she calmly explained that she had "a little trouble" with it. We exchanged puzzled looks, as her first cake looked relatively attractive and was adorned with complex decorations. I cannot remember exactly what it was he said, but he leaned forward to get a better look and then reacted loudly ("What the...?!") followed by suggesting she use a garden trowel to apply frosting for the next competition. I have no idea why, but that did it. My manly chortle transformed into a hyena-like squeal, and tears began to shoot from the corners of my eyes, which I had squeezed shut so I could filter the shocked expression on his face from my field of vision. My cheeks felt like they were in knots and began to cramp. At one point, I feared I would wet myself and then just black out from lack of oxygen, which, surprisingly, I suspected I would still find humiliating after these years of marriage. Instead, I rolled around in delicious agony on the love seat with my arms wrapped around my ribs, and eventually my giggles dissipated into an octave only dogs could hear. I was honestly clean out of my mind. When I could once again regain my composure, I still went into spurts of giggles for nearly an hour afterwards as I got ready for bed. It was wonderful and horrible at the same time.
Wow. I really needed that. :)
Labels: Brian, depression, laughter