Lately, I haven’t had too much to really laugh about…work has been brutal (my students are great), work comes home, and of course you know, I recently lost a friend. Laughter has been my “go to” oasis. I can usually find fun in just about everything. Finding the fun in everything has also gotten me into trouble, but I’ll try not to dwell on that.
This morning while doing my usual…reading blog posts, checking email, and mentally preparing myself for another weekday in paradise. I was reading the news feed. I came across a hilarious article. In fact, it was so funny (to me) that my belly felt like I had completed
100 three sit-ups (about all I can do without keeling over in pain). I will share the article in a link below. While reading the piece, I was reminded me of my own naiveté.
Even though I grew up on the
not so mean streets of Boston, I was one of those kids who was fearful of making bad choices. I avoided drugs and hanging out, even though from afar, I wished I were one of the “cool kids”.
Early on in college, I stopped playing basketball. Playing the sport didn’t mean as much to me as it had in the past and college-level course-work was much more challenging than I anticipated. Since my teammates were my friends and they were at practice or games when it was time for dinner, I found myself scrambling for a place to sit in the cafeteria. Honestly, everyone was very cordial and for a time I flitted from table to table. One evening, none of the “usuals” were in the cafeteria. I went to the salad bar and determined that if I couldn’t find a table where I could sit I would take the salad back to my room. At the salad bar, a girl who sat in the back of my statistics class began chatting with me. I asked if I could join her and she was most agreeable even though we never chatted in class.
At first, we sat at the table alone, then a few other girls I didn’t know joined us. They also had salads and we were chatting about non-consequential topics. Suddenly, as I chomped on the croutons, savored my sunflower seeds, and munched on the marinated mushrooms; the topic seemed to move to salad. Okay, I thought another safe topic. Clearly, I wasn’t really paying attention to their conversations because suddenly when in a moment of camaraderie I proclaimed, “I love mushrooms!” The table became silent. I heard, “Wow, we didn’t expect that from you!”
Now I was puzzled, had my finicky eating past come to haunt me…had I shared a story of sitting at the kitchen table as a child staring at the cold carrots for hours, willing those little orange circles to fall on the floor so that our dog, Le Pew would dive in and save the day. The dog hated vegetables, so no such luck.
Finally, the shock seemed to wear off and the girls began to be a bit more inquisitive about the mushrooms. The whole time I was thinking…there’s a whole vat of mushrooms sitting on the salad bar, was this really a big mystery?
All of a sudden, they realized that we were not talking about the same kind of mushrooms…Honestly, I had never even heard of that kind of “drug” mushroom. The girl in the back of my statistics class, looked at me a bit disapprovingly. Needless to say when I left the table, I had my “bean sprouts” between my legs.
I found an equally naive group of girls to sit with for the rest of my college years.
While this is no belly laugh, I did find a real belly laugh in the following article. I hope you check it out.