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27th of May

This Happy Little Hippie Thinks You Might Need a Good Laugh

Some folks think I’ve got a warped sense of humor.  Like Nick, for example.  He’s 18, so of course I don’t expect a teenager to get my sophisticated kind of funny.  I suppose that’s why he doesn’t laugh when I bend over and one rips, accidentally of course, and I apologize for the fact that my sphincter muscle is aging.  I explain to him that I’m almost 57 and folks my age with my certain leakage problem is where the term “Old Fart” originated.


Oh, believe me, gas can make you laugh.  (Just admit it and stop trying to pretend you’re oh, so, mature and above all this. Because the rest of us know it’s YOU who does those SBD’s—silent-but-deadly’s—) in public while nonchalantly walking away so other people think it’s your kid who did it.  We know who you are.)

So while we’re on the topic . . .

There’s the dogs.  Our lab farts out loud with no remorse, usually on her way UP the steps with me tagging along BEHIND her. Thank you very much.  But the real little stinker is the Yorkie who burps LOUDLY after every meal.  (I recently switched to Lamb and Rice formula from Chicken and Rice.  It smells better when belched.)  I still can’t figure out how a 13-pound dog can muster up such an enormous gas bubble and blow it through his mouth without rupturing some internal organ or something.








Enough about gas.  There are other things to laugh about.  Picture this recent true story . . .

Nick and I are driving down a detour road and he’s playing one of his Ipod songs through the radio speakers real loud.  It’s called Happy Little Hippie.  I’ve never heard it before but it’s a very happy song so I start bopping along.  He films me with his phone. I’m so weird with all that wild, curly hair flipping around on a road I’ve never been on called Racetrack Drive with THREE hairpin turns—complete 90-degree angle turns!  So I think the name Racetrack Road is pretty funny and I dramatize every turn just to get a reaction out of my son while I’m still bouncing along to his song.  I say to him, big smile on my face . . .

Ya know how I keep telling you the songs I want played at my funeral?

He rolls his eyes and says, “Yeah” with two syllables like this . . .


Like he knows something strange is coming, which it is, because I’m his mom, and I’m strange.  So I say to him . . .

I REALLY want Happy Little Hippie played at my funeral because I want everyone to feel HAPPY and shake their HIPPIES!

Now here comes the funny part.  You ready???

Nick smiles and says to me all sarcastically, without skipping a beat . . .

What song DON’T you want played at your funeral?  Highway to Hell?

I nearly pee my pants!  (Remember.  Those anatomical parts are aging . . .)  Tears streaming down my face with laughter, I almost miss one of those hairpin turns.

My very visual mind can see us all at my funeral, me hovering over the whole ceremony, of course, because I’m still a recovering control-freak AND I would never miss a great party.  We’re in our conservative Orthodox Presbyterian Church and the song Happy Little Hippie starts playing and our choir director, Deb, is up front leading the WHOLE church in a giant sing-a-long and hip-shaking celebration of life (and of course, life-after-death because of Jesus!)  Hahahaha! Wouldn’t that be fun?!  And I wouldn’t have to worry about getting thrown out of the church!  But Deb might . . .

(Now don’t go calling 911 on me!  I’m not suicidal.  A bit sassy and macabre, maybe?  But not dangerous!)


In any event, things like gas and planning a fun funeral and taking photos in the Kohler Toilet Museum (as it’s known around here) are a few things that make me laugh.

How about you?

Remember—laughter is good and healthy and BIBLICAL!  Just look up the word in your concordance if you don’t believe me, all you slightly stodgy Christians!  Just kidding.  Sort of.  About the stodgy part. In fact, one of my favorite verses on laughter comes right out of JOB!  No kidding!  Click on this:  Job 8:21!

So here’s that feel-good song to start your weekend.  Listen along, snap your fingers, bop, and have a Happy Little Hippie sort of weekend, my friends!

Need another laugh?  Get your Kleenex and try this . . .





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Come stroll the trails with me on our 44 acre Midwest horse farm where I seek God in the ordinary and always find Him--the Extraordinary--wooing, teaching, wowing me with Himself. Thanks for visiting. I hope you will be blessed!

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