Laughing At Life’s Mishaps Better Than Getting Mad

Is it foolish for me to admit stupid things I do that make me laugh?

I have now passed that ominous “Social Security eligible” birthday, although I don’t plan to take it for a couple more years. Do I publicly display the “foolish” old lady role or keep it as private as possible? I suppose if a person has had the nickname “Pickle Lady” for over 25 years, the possibility of looking very normal is unlikely.

One morning over the weekend, I was moving the water hose, with the sun in my eyes. I bumped into a basket hanging from the swing frame. I really was laughing at the silliness of it when I bumped into the one on the opposite board, which made me laugh even harder. They have been replaced with lower hanging bird feeders.

On a short lunchtime, I needed to go to Walmart. I wanted to pick some red clover and had a bucket of water on the front floorboard. Knowing I didn’t have time to stop, I picked up chicken strips to eat in the car. Pulling out into the street, the bag fell into the bucket. I retrieved it quickly enough to save the food inside. At my next stop, I threw away the wet bag and napkins, eating all but two of the chicken strips. Putting the rest far enough back on the seat to be safe, I quickly made a right turn to get onto the street. A small package of chicken can move a surprising distance in a small amount of time. I laughed at the first fall in the bucket and had to laugh again at my underestimation of the likelihood it could happen again.

Laughing at life’s mishaps certainly makes life happier than getting mad.