“The human race has one really effective weapon, and that is laughter.” – Mark Twain
The other day in the privacy of my back yard, my 6-year-old daughter and her friends were using water balloons to pretend to pee. I started to say something about that being crude humor but then thought of back when I was climbing mountains. I had a She Wee which was a urinary redirector so that girls can stand and pee.
On one climb of Mt. Rainier, I was roped to three of my guy friends and had to pee at 13,500 feet. I walked as far away as I could while roped up, turned my back and used the She Wee. When I turned back to the group, one of my friends was looking at me and said, “Sorry, I couldn’t look away, that was fascinating!” I laughed because it WAS funny and not at all creepy.
What kids know that grown-ups seem to have forgotten is that bodies are funny, amazing and full of wonder. Both of my kids started laughing at “a-choo” by the time they were 6 months old and now most any sneeze, burp or fart makes them break into laughter. Pop a knuckle or get a scratch and they are fascinated. And though they cry when they skin their knees, both are completely entranced by the sight of blood.
The body is great at getting out what it no longer needs. We grow up and try to keep it in – emotions, bad meals, sickness and somehow in the process take it all too seriously. At my age, any twinge of adrenaline and I break out in a full sweat. And when I do yoga in the mornings, I close the doors to the family room just so my groans won’t wake the kids. Instead of trying to pretend it isn’t happening, perhaps I should laugh about it.
Back to funny stories from the mountains. There was the guy I wrote about who came back from the outhouse at 12,500 feet in the Caucasus Mountains saying, “I just spent five minutes dancing with my toilet paper.” And there was another incident on the way to Everest Base Camp in Nepal. We had set up our tents outside Namche Bazar at about 13,000 feet and our guides had created a toilet tent for us – a hole in the ground with a toilet seat sitting atop small luggage rack covered by a tall, skinny tent shaped like a telephone booth. One afternoon the wind came up and knocked over the toilet tent with someone inside. Once we helped him out of all that fabric and determined he wasn’t hurt, it was hilarious.
Perhaps it is because we are vulnerable while we are relieving ourselves that makes us forget that it’s funny. And even this cycle of life, as inglorious as it is, teaches us something. So we might as well eat, drink, and pee merry!
Is your body doing anything funny these days?
(featured photo is Miss O at 6 months laughing at a-choo!)
Surprised By Joy 