I'm not sure if I've mentioned it before, but I laugh at people. A lot. And it's not that I'm laughing out of cruelty, necessarily, (because I'm just as likely to do what ever the "funny" person happens to be doing, perhaps even more so), but it's almost like an instinct thing; I'm laughing out of embarrassment for them. At least that's what I tell D when he scolds me for laughing to the point of tears at LPT for doing something completely clumsy and falling on her ass (or face, depending on the what she was trying to accomplish). For example, tonight she was taking a bathtub [sic] and was standing up, yelling at me for suggesting (horror of horrors) that we wash her hair. She ended her argument with "I don't wanna look at you, Mama!" (Yes, I am SO EXCITED about her teenage years. I'll be the parent locked in the bedroom with the Woodford Reserve on the nightstand.) With that, she turned, and promptly slipped due to the excessive amount (read: entire bottle) of SpongeBob bubble bath in the tub. Now, I panicked for a second, but then, with a huge splash, she landed squarely on. her. ass. And it took every ounce of self control in my body not to burst forth with howls of laughter. I think I snorted as I stifled the initial outburst and managed to eke out "Are you okay?" Thankfully, she was only shocked, not hurt, and all the bath toys had cleared the way for her little tush. I received a (deserved, I'll admit) scowl for my poor responses.
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