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dragonlady7via http://ift.tt/2hhPFfp:viktuuridance replied to your video “We got a new screwgun. I’ve never had one younger than myself. Holy…”
that giggle is infectious
Ha! As I was posting it, and the preview played back, my sister (that’s Middle-Little, who visited for Christmas) said “oh Christ we have the same laugh, was that you or me?” and I said “I don’t know holy shit are we always that shrill” and she was like “help us, I think we are, oh no”
I have over the course of my life had acquaintances who would actively flinch or recoil when I laughed, and you’d be amazed what a number that does on your self-esteem. (Because, of course, it always happens when you’re feeling the most free/yourself, so you’re really not braced for it.)
So I’m glad it’s not as horrible as it sounds to us. All four of us have the same laugh as our mother, who used to Embarrass Us So Much at school functions– there you are in a darkened auditorium backstage waiting for your cue and there’s a thousand people out there and your classmate hears that laugh and says “well Señora [YourMom]’s here, I know that much” and you’re like Please, Floor, Open Up And Take Me.
Now it doesn’t seem so bad, but believe me, junior high was rough. (She was the Spanish teacher in the school, and went to every play, and is six feet tall, and it’s a small town, so everybody knew her.)
Our poor uncle used to always try to tell who was who on the phone. And we were like, bro, we can’t even tell which of us it is. (It helped once the older sister joined the Army because you get an accent in the Army.)
It kind of helps me, though, because by now in my ancientness and wisdom, I have become able to appreciate all of my sisters as the most beautiful and sweet and wise people in the world, and so when I realize that I sound/look like them, it doesn’t seem so bad.
that giggle is infectious
Ha! As I was posting it, and the preview played back, my sister (that’s Middle-Little, who visited for Christmas) said “oh Christ we have the same laugh, was that you or me?” and I said “I don’t know holy shit are we always that shrill” and she was like “help us, I think we are, oh no”
I have over the course of my life had acquaintances who would actively flinch or recoil when I laughed, and you’d be amazed what a number that does on your self-esteem. (Because, of course, it always happens when you’re feeling the most free/yourself, so you’re really not braced for it.)
So I’m glad it’s not as horrible as it sounds to us. All four of us have the same laugh as our mother, who used to Embarrass Us So Much at school functions– there you are in a darkened auditorium backstage waiting for your cue and there’s a thousand people out there and your classmate hears that laugh and says “well Señora [YourMom]’s here, I know that much” and you’re like Please, Floor, Open Up And Take Me.
Now it doesn’t seem so bad, but believe me, junior high was rough. (She was the Spanish teacher in the school, and went to every play, and is six feet tall, and it’s a small town, so everybody knew her.)
Our poor uncle used to always try to tell who was who on the phone. And we were like, bro, we can’t even tell which of us it is. (It helped once the older sister joined the Army because you get an accent in the Army.)
It kind of helps me, though, because by now in my ancientness and wisdom, I have become able to appreciate all of my sisters as the most beautiful and sweet and wise people in the world, and so when I realize that I sound/look like them, it doesn’t seem so bad.
