I have written before about how important laughter is to me. It’s the most beautiful sound I could ever hear.
It’s my favorite kind of music.
With five kids in the house it isn’t long on any given day before at least some of them start bickering. Our children are awesome. Really. But they are kids and they are still learning how to share space, things, Pop Tarts, each other and us parents.
I have a really perplexing memory from when I was young: when my younger sister and I were little, we bickered — a lot — and we laughed — A LOT — but both interactions caused the same response from our father…”Knock it off!” He was usually watching Star Trek reruns or the news and didn’t want the background noise.
Even at that young age of seven I remember wondering why he would tell us to “knock it off” when we were clearly enjoying one another. I understood being told to stop bickering, but telling us to stop laughing made no sense. Of course, trying to stop laughing only made us laugh harder and he’d bark at us again unless we were able to find another place to giggle.
Fast-forward thirty-two years to the present. I’m a mom with a houseful of kids and an abundance of background noise. I have learned to have my mommy ears tuned to catch when they use disrespectful tones with one another, when they can’t seem to settle a dispute amongst themselves or when some are ganging up on one of the others. Everything else I tune out. My mommy ears do not, however, tune out my favorite sound of all: our children laughing together.
The sound of our children laughing together pulls me out of my world, gives me immense joy, de-stresses and invigorates me. Who is immune to such a contagion?
Even if that’s the sound that awakens me in the morning, I love it. I need laughter in my home. Laughter is life!
© Alexa Lopez 2008




I have a very clear memory of this same kind of thing. My cousin and I were giggling up a storm. My uncle got really mad at us and told us to stop. YES, we were at the dinner table but the more he told us to stop, the harder we laughed. He finally made us go sit outside and I often wondered what he would have done had we been fighting. It made no sense to me at the time and now, 40 years later, it still makes no sense. Thank you for stirring up my memory bank this morning.
I like this post.
Joy
http://joyerickson.wordpress.com/