Sometimes You Just Have to Laugh

Last night, my husband and I had leftovers for supper. Since my porkchop was a bit on the dry side, I opened the bottle of barbecue sauce and added some to my plate. Then, I set off for the living room to enjoy my dinner and watch the evening news. I'd only taken my first bite when exasperated sighs and moans began pouring from the kitchen. When they continued, I hurried in to see what was wrong.

I was greeted with an ugly sight. Barbecue sauce dripped from the countertop and sink and formed an oblong-shaped blob in the middle of the floor. My husband's body was decorated too as he stared dumbfounded at the messy mayhem. When he accused me of not putting the lid on the bottle properly I was a little miffed. This was my fault? Seriously? Why did you have to vigorously shake the sauce?

Okay. Maybe I was partially to blame. The least I could do was help.

As I was bent over cleaning the floor, my husband tried to go past me and tripped over my foot. Ouch! In his clumsy pass-by, his toenails gouged my bare foot. But, I ignored the sting as I worried where my husband's body would end up. One time, he passed out, fell backward and broke the fish aquarium. But I digress. It was nothing short of a miracle that he stayed on his feet and didn't do a header into the patio doors. For that, I'm thankful. It was also a miracle that I didn't topple over onto the sticky sauce in a heap of hysterical giggles.

Twenty-four hours later, I'm still laughing at the clumsy, calamity-filled, chain of events. Why not? Floors can be cleaned and toenail injuries healed. Most importantly, my husband didn't suffer a potentially serious fall. Truly, that's all that matters.

We all need a good belly laugh once in a while.

My grandson, Connor laughing at his older brother, Ian.