It really isn't my fault. You see, it's genetic. I have this horrible personality trait that I inherited from my mother. She (and her sisters) inherited it from her mother who inherited it from her mother. It pretty much stays with the women in the family, but I fear it might be getting worse with each generation. Are you ready for the awful truth?
I laugh at other people's pain.
It's true. I am ashamed to admit it, but people getting hurt is the funniest thing in the world to me. Yesterday, my dad walked right into my sliding glass door. I thought I was going to pee my pants, I was trying so hard to hold in the laughter. When Ben stubs his toe or Tyler hits him in the head with a toy I crumple to my knees in a fit of giggles. Nicole tripped today while we were walking Tyler to preschool and I busted up laughing. When someone gets REALLY hurt (like the time my dad was engulfed in a fireball and burned half the skin off his body) that's not funny at all. Or when Ben had his kidney stones, again, not funny. But the little things are beyond hilarious to me. So if you trip and fall or bang your head getting out of the car (a personal favorite of mine) or poke yourself in the eye with your sunglasses, I will probably laugh at you. In fact, I will definitely laugh at you. But please don't be offended. Don't think that I'm a callous, mean spirited human being. I was just born this way.