Walking the Wall

I have laughed more in the last two days than I have the entire past year. I have laughed so much that I woke up with my face sore (along with the rest of my body), and I’m ending the day with my face (along with the rest of my body) being even more sore. Who would have thought that laughter’s true shape was that of a ball–a ping pong ball. What is it about a little white ball ridiculously bouncing back and forth (sometimes, at other times, most other times, it’s ridiculously bouncing off the walls or floor or etc.) across a table that can pull out so much laughter? The looks on people’s faces as they try to hit the ball, boggle the ball, dive for the ball, fall across the room trying to rescue the ball, crawl under tables to retrieve the ball, even resort to attempting to catch the ball with hands, elbow joints, pits, and yes, even breasts, when all attempts to hit the ball don’t work. Watching my daughter and youngest sister nearly crying with laughter and doing the "sprinkler victory dance" after a particularily sad attempt (on my part) to hit the ball. It is truly priceless. My friend and I played a few games tonight, I am 37 years old and she is…I won’t reveal her age but she is older than I am…we are both bright, intelligent, interesting women with a lifetime of experiences and wisdom–reduced to puddles of laughter by one single ping pong ball. I have decided to add to my list of "things to do before I die"–swimming in a pool of ping pong balls because then I would be essentially swimming in a sea of laughter and that sounds divine. Perhaps what the world needs is not more guns, not more bombs, not more military troops, not more peace talks, not more educational restructuring, not more anti-depressents–maybe the world just needs more ping pong balls.