Humorous Happenings Around Town

Humor in the moment has a way of sneaking up on me, and this week has been no exception. Sometimes I just have to laugh to avoid crying, and other times, I laugh so hard I just have to cry.

An incident occurred in my washing machine yesterday. Apparently, while in the spin cycle, a pair of my husband’s boxer briefs co-mingled with my Spanx and wound up wrapping around the agitator tighter than a drum.

The result ended in a booby trap launching out of the machine with the force of a South American tribal blow gun when I opened the lid. The catapulting glob of laundry narrowly missed my carotid artery, causing my life to flash before me. Now that was unexpected. 

I spent the next half an hour in a wrestling match with my Kenmore trying to dislodge the tangled apparel from the machine. I don’t know which one of us was more agitated, when all was said and done, me or the agitator.

And I can’t say my husband’s boxers will ever be the same.

Over the weekend, while taking a walk on a sunny Kennesaw afternoon, I passed the park near my home and observed a tall man in a grey suit playing with a basketball. While this in itself may not be particularly odd, the fact that he was also dancing with a Greyhound and singing "Camptown Races" did seem a bit peculiar. Ah, spring has sprung in Kennesaw.

The other day, while waiting for the light to change at the intersection of Jiles Road and Main Street, a clown pushing a shopping cart passed by in the crosswalk. He was wearing a multi-colored wig, giant green shoes, a polka dotted outfit and had a red blinking nose. I couldn’t account for his carrying a chair. Perhaps he needed to take a load off?

I was talking to a friend last week who told me she was in the parking lot of CiCi’s Pizza on Cobb Parkway and happened to see an unusual looking dog in someone’s car. Curious and wanting to get a better look at the unique animal, she moved in a bit closer only to realize it was a goat. I never even knew goats liked to ride in cars. Goat cheese pizza anyone?

The other night, riding home from Adams Park, I saw a lady sprawled out face down on her lawn. Shouting at my husband to turn the car around, he negotiated the headlights toward the victim while I hopped out and ran to the scene.

No sooner had I screamed at my son to dial 911, then I realized the object was no lady. It was a giant blow-up deflated leprechaun.

Apparently, no one in Kennesaw bothered to let these folks know it was bad luck to leave your leprechaun out after St. Patrick’s Day. Have you ever tried to explain why, exactly, you were caught kneeling in someone’s front yard after dark while your husband’s headlights shown in through their dining room window?

On Friday, I treated my son to a Slurpie for the start of Spring Break. How could I have known I was about to have an ice cold bubble of Slurpie flung in my eye by my son who was goofing with his straw? While disturbing for a brief moment, it was only an accident, and I wasn’t mad once the cherry-flavored stinging subsided.   

These kinds of thing happen to me regularly, as anyone who knows me can attest. I think you have to be susceptible to observing the humor in the events that are all around you.

Keep your mind open to the joy and the humor that comes your way, and next time you want to cry, perhaps you will find laughter instead.