I have a witch's cackle. Sometimes it is quite evil. Other times (a.k.a. most of the time) it is quite frightening. It's very sudden, and very inherited. When all the hens in my family get together (my awesome sisters, mother, and aunts) the men all need ear plugs. Or a good appreciation for seriously funny jokes.
I was watching something on Netflix with my men today. Babalu (Baby boy's new nickname from Momma) was chillin' in my lap, watching the patio door lights, listening to the show along with us. He had just woken up and was still kind of groggily.
Something funny happened on the show (the translation from Russian was "party chicken"!) and I laughed. Thought nothing of it until Babalu jumped and let out the saddest, most heart-breakingly-loud cry ever.
Not the first time my laugh has surprised unsuspecting company.
Babalu, someday, ask your father. Maybe he'll tell you of times he had to sit where he could see my face to know that I was going to laugh. Or about times my laugh woke him up from a deep, deep slumber.
But what he definitely will tell you is that you're stuck with the witch's cackle forever, but know that it's better to have a Momma with a loud laugh, than one who never laughs at all.
No comments:
Post a Comment