Monday, March 2, 2009

Joined at the Funny Bone

There are some jokes I'm just not allowed to be in on.
I never know when or where they are going to spring up either. My three and a half year old daughter and one and a half year old son will share a glance, a few words, even some indistinguishable sound, and set the funny bone in motion. It happened during our nightly bedtime story ritual this evening. I chose In the Night Kitchen by Maurice Sendak as this evening's book, perhaps because I have been up to my elbows in flour and such as of late. I hadn't read through the first page when the giggling began. By the third page it was in full force. By the time we were reading "Milk in the batter! Milk in the batter!" on the fifth page I found it amazing that they could even hear what I was saying. Those deep belly laughs continued right through to the very last page with Wren trying to get out, "Read it again! Read it again!". I thought, surely, they won't find this story as funny the second time around. I was wrong. This funny bone was a strong one. It is a joke that perhaps only the two of them truly get, but for those of us lucky enough to witness, it doesn't really matter what the joke is because they are just so darn funny to watch. It's like a feeding frenzy only the food in this case is laughter. Bouncing back and forth between the two of them, the laughter escalates and escalates until all that is audible are those deep belly laughs we all seem incapable of making once we grow up and become such "adults". I can almost hear our own sets of parents saying that it's not such a good idea to get children so riled up before bedtime. I can hear my husband saying it too, but we're now well beyond the point of no return. A last minute change of the baby's diaper becomes akin to struggling with a slippery bar of soap. No matter where I touch him to make the change he is bursting with yet more laughter. And Wren is just eating it up. I find my index finger uncontrollably lightly poking her belly and you would swear it was the worst form of tickle torture. I'm thinking to myself, "When do they come up for air? Can they hurt themselves from laughing this much?" Sooner or later they'll start to settle down and both will have a glassed over look about their eyes. The next thing I know they are passed out sound asleep. No warning whatsoever. Just done. Nights like these can run for hours with not even the slightest of movements from either one of them. They ran a laughter marathon and ran it hard. A few weeks ago the funny bone began when Wren commented in the back of the car that she was hungry. We were talking about dinner and I asked her what she wanted. What she wanted was some humor, and replied, "I'm going to eat a tree." I hadn't had time to really find this remark humorous but obviously Dane had. He couldn't stop laughing. I listened to a rally about eating trees for ten minutes while doing my best to drive the car home in a straight line. I had NO IDEA why I was laughing except that they were just infectious. It will be interesting to see how long this funny bone lasts between the two of them. I hope it hangs on for a long time because it is something that I think is really special that only the two of them are a part of. I'm just along for the ride.

1 comment:

Jaime said...

That is so sweet. Really now, how could anyone not be pulled in to such sweet sounds?