|Laughs hysterically when I sneeze...|
I recently finished a little flash fiction piece for a Halloween fiction contest. It was my first attempt at humor writing, and now that it is complete, I think I'd like to do more! Get a little meat on my humor bones!
If you can't laugh, you can't breathe. I've certainly never had a problem with laughing. I used to get in trouble in school sometimes because I would get the never ending giggles. Humor resides most everywhere, you just have to be able to see it, and having a sense of humor can keep a person from going to the dark side. However, being able to write humor is a very different bird and a fun, new challenge, perfect for the autumn season. Just because you like to laugh does not mean you are funny, and there is a stark contrast between laughing at someone or beside them.
As of this morning, I am not laughing, I am sneezing, sniffling, and coughing...Okay, so I am still laughing :) Baby H is licking his reflection in the washing machine going, "Oh, WOW!" Who knew the spin cycle could be so entertaining? What a goofball!
In conclusion, I will leave you with the perfect combination of sick + humor: The great Shel Silverstein...Sick
by Shel Silverstein
"I cannot go to school today,"
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
"I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I'm going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I've counted sixteen chicken pox
And there's one more--that's seventeen,
And don't you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut--my eyes are blue--
It might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I'm sure that my left leg is broke--
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button's caving in,
My back is wrenched, my ankle's sprained,
My 'pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb.
I have a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow's bent, my spine ain't straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is--what?
What's that? What's that you say?
You say today is. . .Saturday?
G'bye, I'm going out to play!"