Giggling Fits

This is a very odd affliction for a 57-year old Amish Mennonite lady, but it happened to me again today, right in the middle of our Sunday School class.

I worked valiantly at suppressing it, and successfully avoided any squeaky or eruptive noises. But that effort drove all the eruptions inward, resulting in way too much shaking in the "abominable"area. It was mystifying, I'm sure, to anyone who noticed. Nothing in the discussion was remotely funny.

My mirth was triggered by a very innocent process going on beside me. Janice was holding her young nephew, who seems to have a cold right now. She caught on that he needed to blow his nose, so she offered him a tissue which he obediently blew into. Except that, if I analyzed it correctly with my peripheral vision and my cocked ears, the timing was not well coordinated.

"Blow," she whispered, and there was a faint response. She caught the emission and re-grouped. But while she was doing that, the real blow commenced--uncaught. Don't you hate it when that happens?

Several repetitions of the above scenario nearly finished me off. Remembering it during church provoked another giggling fit, and writing about it does the same.

Some people just never grow up, I guess.