People of Ready Laughter
By Belinda
People of ready laughter--that's what we are. Well, maybe "we" is too sweeping--but I am a person of easy amusement, I got it from my mum, and sometimes it spills over to those in my vicinity.
I was in the kitchen tonight, baking apple pies when Tippy came upstairs to borrow a dishwasher tablet so that they could turn on their dishwasher downstairs.
Since Tori and Tippy hit 12 and 13 and are becoming increasingly cloaked in the great silence of teenage-hood, I take every opportunity to coax out information about what's going on in their lives and heads. A little at a time seems to work best, since adults are fast becoming an alien species, I can tell.
Tippy, sun drenched golden brown and and leggy as a young colt, is at art camp this week, learning about film scripts and doing visual arts. Art is her grand passion. So I asked, "How's art camp going?"
"Oh, it's great, I love it," she said.
"It must be wonderful to be with kindred spirits," I said, "I bet it's like when I go to a writers conference. I always feel like I'm with my 'tribe.'"
She looked slightly startled at the unexpected use of the word.
"Tribe?" she said, staring at me with a twinkle growing in her brown eyes.
"Yes, 'tribe'" I said, not explaining on purpose and staring back, with an equal twinkle.
Her eyes drilled into mine with a question mark while being struck by something funny.
"What are you laughing at?" she asked.
"I'm laughing at you, laughing at me."
"Well, I'm laughing at YOU, laughing at me!" she said and we both burst into laughter which would be hard to explain to anyone passing by the kitchen. A floury hug ensued.
A merry heart does do good--like medicine.
People of ready laughter--that's what we are. Well, maybe "we" is too sweeping--but I am a person of easy amusement, I got it from my mum, and sometimes it spills over to those in my vicinity.
I was in the kitchen tonight, baking apple pies when Tippy came upstairs to borrow a dishwasher tablet so that they could turn on their dishwasher downstairs.
Since Tori and Tippy hit 12 and 13 and are becoming increasingly cloaked in the great silence of teenage-hood, I take every opportunity to coax out information about what's going on in their lives and heads. A little at a time seems to work best, since adults are fast becoming an alien species, I can tell.
Tippy, sun drenched golden brown and and leggy as a young colt, is at art camp this week, learning about film scripts and doing visual arts. Art is her grand passion. So I asked, "How's art camp going?"
"Oh, it's great, I love it," she said.
"It must be wonderful to be with kindred spirits," I said, "I bet it's like when I go to a writers conference. I always feel like I'm with my 'tribe.'"
She looked slightly startled at the unexpected use of the word.
"Tribe?" she said, staring at me with a twinkle growing in her brown eyes.
"Yes, 'tribe'" I said, not explaining on purpose and staring back, with an equal twinkle.
Her eyes drilled into mine with a question mark while being struck by something funny.
"What are you laughing at?" she asked.
"I'm laughing at you, laughing at me."
"Well, I'm laughing at YOU, laughing at me!" she said and we both burst into laughter which would be hard to explain to anyone passing by the kitchen. A floury hug ensued.
A merry heart does do good--like medicine.
Comments
I'm so glad you enjoyed being welcomed into our kitchen craziness for a moment in time.