From Tami: A (Serious) Case of the Giggles

One of my boys needed tubes put in his ears before he was a year old. I took him to the Ear, Nose, and Throat specialist for a consult before the procedure, and brought along his almost-four-year-old brother. Who was hyperactive on a good day, and very excited to be in the office.

The baby, on the other hand, was anything but pleased. I had to hold him down so the doctor could look in his ears properly. He was screaming; his soft, round face was beet red.

And there was the preschooler. Laughing. Jumping. THRILLED.

The doctor shot him a look while trying to focus on my baby’s ears.

There were toys to play with!

I sat there, embarrassed, immobilized by the wailing infant on my lap.

And books to read!

The doctor was growing visibly impatient.

And tables to climb on!

And, I admit, I giggled. Just a small one, brought on by the hopeless embarrassment of watching my child run amok and not feeling able to do anything. Because I was not stopping the exam only to restart it. I wanted it over already. My poor baby was terrified.

And chairs to jump on!

The doctor looked at me, brow arched. I guess my giggle was not what he expected.

And things to examine!

Ok. Then I snorted. I was trying to hold in the giggle. It didn’t work.

And nooks to explore!

And then I lost it. I shrieked. I howled. I hooted. I screeched. I was laughing like a hyena, like a loon, like I had just discovered laughter. Tears streamed down my face. The more the doctor looked at me, wondering what was happening in his office, the more unhinged I became. I was mortified, and that kept me laughing harder.

I was having trouble catching my breath. I realized that people could probably hear me in the waiting room, and that just set me off further.

The exam couldn’t have taken long, but because I was immobilized with the baby, the situation seemed to last forever. I could not control myself, and I was so self-conscious about the whole thing. Seventeen years later, however, the story makes me smile every time. It is just one more reminder of the absurdities of parenthood, and how even the most straightforward of days can take unexpected—and hilarious—turns.

I want to hear your stories of ludicrous parenting moments. Come on, don’t leave me hanging like the only crazy parent!

But you would never leave me hanging; you’re a SuperMom!

Tami