My Life Makes Me Laugh

My life makes me laugh.

I can entertain myself just by recalling all the myriad events in my life.  Things people said or did. To be honest, though, a lot of the chuckles come from crazy things I did myself.

For instance, the time I pretended to be blind.

I was a big fan of Laura Ingalls Wilder and her books on prairie life.  When she wrote of her sister Mary becoming blind, tears dripped down my face.  When Mary left to go to the School for the Blind, I was scared for her.  How would she function without Ma, Pa, Laura and Carrie? Homesick and blind, how would she cope?

And then, as my imagination always does, I pictured myself in Mary's shoes.  The school bus I was riding became the train taking Mary to the Blind School.

When Frances, the bus driver, came to my stop, she yelled, "Jerri, this is your stop, babe,"  I stepped off the bus as Mary.

Alone, forsaken, having to walk to the school all by myself, I imagined.  (My brother, in real life, running on ahead home never noticing that. I. Could. Not. See.)

I figured the best way to walk a dirt road was to stay in the middle, on the grass hump left by the wagon wheels ... umm,  tire tracks.   I would wend my way to the school (home) by walking on the grass hump.

My eyes tightly closed, I started out.  Unfortunately, I had no sense of balance and kept stepping off the hump onto the tire tracks.  Determined to do this thing, I'd step back up on the hump and try again. Step, step, fall off the hump, step back up on the hump, repeat.  Over and over for a quarter mile to the school (home).

Meanwhile, at home, my brother burst into the door and headed for the refrigerator.  My dad happened to be home early that day and said to Tim, "where's your sister?"  Tim, rummaging through the fridge for the bologna, mumbled, "I dunno." 

Dad had good reason to ask because I've been known to fall asleep on the bus, miss my stop and sleep soundly all the way to Frances' house.  Since Frances has had to turn around and bring me home several times, she started yelling at me when it was my time to get off the bus.

Dad then walked to the window to look down the road and saw a troubling sight - his baby girl weaving and stumbling on the road home!  He concluded I must be deathly ill and ran like a flash up the road to meet me.

"Jerr, Jerr - what's wrong with you!  Are you sick?" he yelled as he ran.

Lost in my dream world, I never even heard him until he was right in front of me.  I opened my eyes to see my dad, panting from running, eyes wild with concern, and I had to sheepishly admit there was nothing wrong with me.

"I was just pretending to be blind," I said in a small voice.

And that, my friends, is how my story of "the time Jerralea pretended to be blind" made it into the hall of fame of family stories.  Dad told that story to anyone and everyone who would listen.

After time had passed, I began to see the humor in this little memory of mine.  I would recall it at the oddest times and chuckle. 

I love to entertain myself with a million family stories like this.  Every once in awhile, I'll be at the office, typing away, and I'll remember something crazy that happened in the past.  I'll try to laugh quietly, but sometimes I get so tickled, I'm wheezing with laughter.

What can I say?  My life makes me laugh.

 

This post was written in response to Writer's Workshop prompt 1.) Write a post that begins and ends with the same line.  If you'd like to see other wacky responses to this prompt, visit Kathy at Mama's Losin' It.