This morning, Sean and I were putting together a puzzle on the coffee table. We worked side-by-side together in silence for a while and I enjoyed watching him methodically choose, try and then discard ill-fitting puzzle pieces until he found the correct piece. That is so like his father – rational and systematic.
Then for no apparent reason, he chuckled.
And so I chuckled in return.
Then he tried out another laugh, “E-e-e-eeee-ah!” (The Hi-Karate laugh)
So then I responded with “Ah-ah-ahahahah!” (The Wicked Witch laugh)
Sean: Ha-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a (The Machine Gun laugh)
Antique Mommy: “Hoo-hoo-hee-hee!” (The Lamaze or The Monkey – depending who is doing it)
We went through our entire repertoire of maniacal laughs until I finally ended it with the silent laugh, the one where I throw my head back with mouth open wide, but alas, no sound.
Aside: When I was 16, I worked in a SuperX drugstore and the lady who ran the cosmetics department was a crazy high-miler AARP kind of gal. She always wore a big starchy beehive hairdo and she drew on these big Joan Crawford eyebrows that extended out to her temples and sometimes she managed to get her red red lipstick on her lips, but usually just close. She would always open her mouth really wide and gasp before she said anything, which made everything seem way more dramatic than it actually was. I suspect Edna liked her some drama. Anyway, I stole The Silent Laugh from her. (Thanks Edna!)
After the silent laugh, he conceded victory with a “Hmph.”
And then we went back to working the puzzle.
Systematic and rational he gets from his father. Maniacal laughing and spontaneous interpretive dancing? Those life skills, he gets from me.