Tickle Fest

One recent evening, Little Miss was sitting on my lap and we were having a tickle fest. She’s never been one to sit and cuddle; even as a baby she was always on the go, constantly wiggling and moving. So tickling has been our method of “cuddling.”

I paused in the tickle fest and began to whisper in her ear about how ticklish her daddy is, and where his tickle spots are. As we were whispering, The Narrator walked over with a “And what’s that you’re talking about, huh?” Without skipping a beat, Little Miss replied, “Shirts. We’re talking about how many shirts I have in my closet.”

The Narrator didn’t buy her attempt at a white lie, and replied while lurching at me, “Your Momma has lots of ticklish spots too!” Next thing I knew, I was laying on the floor, laughing uncontrollably trying to get away.

In an instant, I felt something physically release inside of me. I couldn’t remember the last time I laughed that hard – the kind of laughter where you can’t help yourself and you couldn’t stop if you tried. They say that laughter is the best medicine, and as I lay writhing on the floor, I felt something penetrate my bones and move through my body. I was lighter. Life was simpler. I was a kid again. I was 17 and falling in love with the man of my dreams. I hadn’t a care in the world, and was flattered by his attentions. My life full of potential and unlimited dreams lay before me. All that from laughter resonating deep in the soul.

He finally let me go with a twinkle in his eye. The kids had joined in too. T-Rex had pounced on my head tickling my neck, and Little Miss was pulling on my leg trying to save me. I sighed and wiped the tears from my eyes. Before I resumed the weight of adulthood, I lingered in the light carefree moment and breathed in my family.

I’m not saying that we should all be tickled once a week until we laugh so hard we can’t breathe, but it was nice to laugh so hard and just let go of adult assumptions and pretentions.

#4 Million Dollar Moments