Life is serious and difficult, so let’s laugh. And while we’re at it, let’s laugh at ourselves.
Today I want to hear from you. Tell me a story—embarrassing or otherwise—about a time when you had to laugh at yourself.
And if you’d like to spread the humor, I’ll publish your story (along with your first name, city, and state) in next week’s blog installment. Subscribers, to share your story, hit reply to this email. Other readers, click here to submit.
I’ll get us started.
“Girls, it’s Mom,” I said, knocking on the door of the women’s restroom at the dentist office. I kept my voice low; the waiting patients around the corner didn’t need to hear my business. “Can I come in? I have to brush my teeth.”
I had a few minutes before the hygienist would call me back into an exam room, and Ricka and Dicka were still in the single restroom—the only women’s restroom in the place. How many minutes had gone by? Too many. How long did it take them to brush their teeth anyway? They were probably on their phones, maybe posing for bathroom selfies and losing track of time. Like mine, their appointments were moments away. They needed to hustle.
I rapped again. “Hey, seriously, girls. Let me in.”
Footsteps scraped on the other side of the door. A flush of the toilet. Had they heard me? Or had the fan muffled my words?
One of the receptionists rounded the corner and smiled at me as she passed. I returned the warmth, and she disappeared down the hallway. I turned up my volume one notch, curving my words with a smile. “Girls, knock it off. I just have to brush my teeth fast.”
Fifteen feet away, another door opened, the light/fan combo of the room snapping off. Two laughs floated to me, and I spun toward the familiar sound. Ricka and Dicka—cracking up over something—emerged from the men’s restroom.
“Hey, Mom,” Ricka said, spotting me. She pointed at the door where I stood. “That one was busy, so…” She shrugged.
I hurried back to the waiting room with my girls. Maybe brushing my teeth wasn’t that important.
Now it’s your turn.
“As long as you can laugh at yourself, you will never cease to be amused.” Unknown
*Names in this blog have been changed to protect my family and friends in the neighborhood, and in a nod of appreciation to the beloved Swedish author Maj Lindman, I’ve renamed my three blondies Flicka, Ricka, and Dicka.