Tickled

Hello and Happy Thursday everyone! How was your day? My hope is that it was simply fabulous. Tomorrow is FRIYAY. For those of you who work a Monday – Friday job it means it’s almost over. We’ve almost made it to the best part of every week. The beloved weekend. Oh, how we all wish our lives away waiting for wonderful Saturday and Sunday. My weekends are typically spent with the ones that I love doing the things I enjoy. Saturdays are good but Sundays, for me, are always better. Today I was thinking about Sundays and so many wonderful memories flooded my mind. As a child that last day of the week (first day of the week for some people) consisted of church first and foremost, followed by a family dinner. Momma had us in church what seemed to be every Sunday. You got your tail out of bed and dressed real pretty to go sit in the pew. She was serious about it. You sat there like a little lady and listened to the pastor. You sang from them hymnal and worshiped like you were at the best rock concert you’ve ever been to. Needless to say it was no rock concert lol. Now don’t get me wrong, I loved church. I love Christian music and the older I get the more I love to worship. My church service now consists of listening tomy favorite Christian artists while I go for a run or a walk. Just a little different now. I grew up a Christian girl with a strong faith in the Lord. But, when we were little you went to church and walked the straight and narrow. You paid attention and didn’t act up. Typically, momma would sit between my sister and I. I literally think she sat between us because one peep that didn’t suit her fancy and you were in TROUBLE. God forbid you got tickled. And we did people! We got tickled a lot. Always at the worst places possible. It seemed like it was almost every Sunday. My little sister and I could (and pretty much still can) look at each other and lose it. So most of the church service I spent the 90 minutes looking at the floor praying that I wouldn’t start laughing and daring Amanda (my little sister) to look at me. I figured it was okay because all those little “old” people just thought I was sitting there praying. They must have thought I was the prayinest girl they ever knew lol. We use to write notes to one another on our church bulletin and pass them back and forth. Nothing bad of course but mostly, Wonder where we are going to eat when we leave here? I wish I would have kept some of those bulletins. I’m sure we would get a good laugh out of them now. We got in to so much trouble. The first little shake of a giggle and mom would dig her fingernail between your ribs. Sometimes I would swear she had touched my lung. She would sit with her arms crossed and pierce her lips tighter than a cats butt and then here would come that boney finger and long fingernail right between your ribs lol. You didn’t act up in church. She wasn’t having that embarrassment. Often she would say “you wait till you have kids. paybacks are comin”. I have to say she was right.

Daddy normally didn’t go to church with us. He was a good man. He was a Christian. He just wasn’t in to going to church. His church was more between him and God while he sat in a tree stand deer hunting. Or at his farm while he was farming and mowing. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. But, mom was usually the one in the embarrassing moments. I also remember being at the funeral home once and getting tickled. To the point that we had to go to the bathroom to get straightened up because I was sure we were about to get a whippin. There is nothing worse than getting tickled at a funeral. It happens. We are all human. It’s just not ideal to be shaking all over when its such a sad occasion. I felt sure that out hides were about to be tanned. Sitting in the bathroom in a funeral home trying to get ahold of yourself and then feeling like you had gotten it all out but, as soon as we sat back down it started again. I look back on it now and y’all it was so disrespectful but, in all honesty we did not mean any disrespect. We were just two little girls that got tickled and couldn’t stop laughing. I don’t know, a part of me thinks that a funeral shouldn’t be so sad and should be a celebration. I know, I know, it’s still rude to get tickled at a funeral. But it happened. Thankfully only once. But it sure did happen. Mom was the queen of the funeral home community. She did hair for all of the people that she knew when they passed away. I can remember thinking how creepy that was and she would tell us it was the last thing she could do for someone. She went and did hair at the funeral homes for years up until just a few years ago. Truth be told she probably would do it now if someone asked her to. That was her way. Our momma the saint. And I don’t say that lightly, she really is the closest person to a saint that I’ve ever know. So you can image the madness she was feeling with us getting tickled at the funeral home.

Here we are all these years later, and we still get tickled. I literally can’t go through a drive thru with my sister without looking out the window while she orders. If I as much as glance at her while she’s trying to order she will bust out. We have driven around that drive thru more than once just waiting to gain composure to order. I laugh about it right now just thinking about it. I know that the people in McDonalds spit in our food once. All she was ordering was a hot fudge sundae but when she said “with nuts” she literally busted out and screamed it through the monitor. We couldn’t even look at the people at the window. I’m sure they were smiling but we grabbed those sundaes and zoomed out of there as quick as we could. She was so mad at me but, I couldn’t help it. Lordy lou what if mom would have been with us that day? I swear I think she would have made us pull over and she would have walked home. It makes her so mad.

My husband and I are the same way. He gets tickled all over and when he puts his hand over his mouth and starts what I call “wheeze laughing” we are done for. I mean forget it for the rest of the night. We’re done. Tears rolling. Maybe its me since this need to laugh at the wrong time seems to follow me around. I must be the culprit, and I probably deserved all those finger in the lung moments. They do bring great memories.

This little life that we live deserves to be lived with a smile. Laughing burns calories and boosts your mood. There is no way you can be depressed or anxious if you are tickled. I suggest it. Even in the serious moments. Let it out. Laugh until your ribs hurt. It’s some of the best parts of my life. My hope for you, my friends is laughter. There’s so much seriousness and stress in our daily lives. So I hope there’s so much laughter for you. Even if you do get a finger to the lung lol. Annnnnnd maybe not so much at a funeral. Unless the people are fun, then it’ll be okay lol.

May we all rest well tonight and have happy dreams. I hope tomorrow is the best day for each of us. SMILE

Always…….Brooke