I often get comments about my serious nature. Why don’t you ever smile? Is there a bug up your butt? You should lighten up a bit, dude. What these unsolicited commentators don’t realize is that underneath the surface I’m laughing hard. Just because I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve doesn’t mean I don’t know how to have a good time or that I’m not enjoying the moment. To the contrary, I like humor, was once voted class clown, and am hardly ever serious about anything. People too often judge individuals from their outward shell and overlook the true person within. But my seeming austere demeanor goes deeper than a mere characteristic of my personality.
You see, whenever I laugh I urinate profusely. I’m talking gusher. And the harder I laugh, the funnier the joke, the more I let loose, like a sprinkler gone haywire. I’ve been this way since childhood. As I look back on embarrassing moments I wish I were a pregnant women, because then at least I could have pretended my water broke. I’ve often used an analogy to convey my propensity to pee while laughing. You know the story about the little Dutch boy who stuck his finger in the dyke, right? Well, imagine that instead of a dyke it’s basic decency and propriety, or in an alternate version of this analogy, my underwear and pants. Finally, imagine someone telling the Dutch boy something really really funny or simply tickling his tummy or making fart noises with the armpit. The little boy starts laughing uncontrollably and lets his finger out of the dyke, thus allowing a golden sea to inundate the city. Well, that describes my situation to a tee! So when you see me scowl after hearing a joke, you’ll know that I’m probably laughing my ass off on the inside but have opted to hold back and allow no cracks in my façade lest the floodgates break open.