Sandy Supposes....

Heads Up...You've Been Warned

PROMPT: Last prompt of the month. Describe a moment in your life you laughed so hard you cried, had a drink come out your nose, or peed in your pants.

          One evening last summer, the family camp fire was displaced by pouring rain that forced us into the camper. We gathered about to play a new game my youngest had downloaded to her cell phone. It was a game introduced and explained by comedienne/talk show hostess Ellen DeGeneres, Heads Up. The game's concept is simple. One player is 'it' and guessing while they hold a cell phone with an illuminated screen to their forehead. 'It' has already selected a category and now listens to clues and watches actions in a bid to guess words that relate to names, movie titles, food, animals, songs, or whatever. The game has a timer, so it is fast-paced. With our mob it was soon rowdy with clues being shouted and laughter ringing off the walls.

         I'd chosen to sit on a glider/ rocker and my husband sat on the matching ottoman at my feet. Adult children and two granddaughters were sprawled on a futon and folding deck chairs. Hubby was 'it' and doing his best to follow our hints. Without provocation or even a bit of a warning, I was catapulted/ejected/shot/bucked/pitched forward onto the floor in a crumpled heap at his feet. I could never have foreseen that I'd be wedged under a cantankerous rocking chair; it was absurd, it was ridiculous, it was funny. In an instant I was pinned in a wooden cramped cage, the over-turned rocker. My ears were resting on my knees, not my shoulders. My daughters were howling, "Mom, we didn't know you were so flexible. You're all scrunched up!" I discovered that it is painful to laugh when your lungs cannot fully expand.

         Most of us were laughing so hard the tears obscured our vision; not my youngest granddaughter though. Her tears were from fright and concern and righteous indignation. "Stop laughing! Poppa do something! Nanna's hurt." My partner was frozen. I still giggle when I think back; after all the surprises I've inflicted upon him in many years of wedded bliss, I could still render him speechless and immobile. If only I'd had a camera and could actually film his reaction. That look of utter incredulity.....there was definitely a disconnect; his brain simply could not comprehend what his eyes were witnessing. Was he trying to recall if this was ever mentioned in any marriage manual? Was this perhaps the 'poorer' part? My eldest granddaughter repeated, "Seriously, Nanna? Are you all right?" My two daughters and I could only gasp and giggle as the tears flowed unabated. Across the room, my eldest clutched her chest moaning, "I can't breathe."

         Perhaps my dazed mate thought I was enacting some crazy clue sort of like method acting? Was my predicament actually an absurd pantomime? After some time had passed or had been suspended along with me, hubby sprang into his role as rescuer. This is when he discovered that I really wasn't faking; one of the legs of my captor was wedged beneath an aluminum door. This only precipitated more hysterical laughing; I was a door-stop.

          More weeping and whooping followed as my youngest attempted to describe the look on her father's face. Sniffling and heaving, we had just calmed down when a boyfriend snorted, stretched and sat up. That was all we needed to begin laughing again. Apparently, 'sleeping beauty' had been undisturbed by all the comedy and chaos. His facial expression was priceless; he deemed us bonkers. My youngest struggled to explain, but she couldn't contain her laughing. Once again, we thought we were free to inhale lungfuls of air, but no, somebody had to snicker. Soon we were guffawing anew.

         So, yes, a resounding yes, I have laughed so hard I cried. I was most definitely wet, but my bladder is an Olympic athlete; superb muscle control.

         I cannot recall if there was a warning of any type included with this game. Maybe there was wording such as ' adult discretion is advised' or 'play at your own risk'. Most of us were adults if age is a factor. The name of this game was probably an indicator; Heads Up. Isn't this yelled during golf games? Look out, pay attention, heads up! Should someone warn Ellen DeGeneres of the possibility of personal injury? Product peril is real. I've never consciously attributed any of this to the skill of seating. Thank goodness we didn't play this game seated around the campfire; other things might have been burning besides my eyes and lungs.

          My eldest daughter, Carrie, is known as MacGyver. Like her namesake, she is quite resourceful. Years ago during an amusement park excursion, she jury-rigged a metal wagon with a pair of skate laces. It remained together for the entire day only to collapse as we ventured out to our car. I digress; this is another story of great laughter. Since she is so clever and capable, Carrie could install an air bag, or at the very least a safety harness to that rocking chair.

          DISCLAIMERS: The rocking chair was not maimed. It lives to attack again. Despite popular opinion, prolonged chortling does not actually 'split a gut'. My family is proof positive that you simply cannot 'die laughing'. Carrie's rib muscles were a wee bit strained, but they recovered. Heads Up doesn't normally align itself with game shows of derring-do such as Risk Factor and Wipeout.