The Norman Transcript

March 20, 2010

Getting the giggle back


The Norman Transcript

Norman — A couple of months ago I realized something. I’d lost my giggle.

I’m not sure where it went. I usually always manage to keep that giggle in check. And if I can’t find it, I have the comfort of knowing that I at least have a back up giggle. That’s what I call giggle insurance. Sometimes I’ve got three or four back up giggles. A girl can never be too cautious with her giggles. But, this time, they were all gone. It was as if my giggle river had gone and dried up. A giggle drought if you will.

I looked all over the house — under the bed, in the couch cushions. Nothing. Just a bunch of dust bunnies, some spare change and the lost dog toy that we haven’t seen for months. I even looked in the the car. The glovebox proved nothing but important car related documents, a tire gauge and some receipts from past oil changes. Nothing that was worth giggling over, that’s for sure. It wasn’t at the office either. I even contemplated putting in a lost and found ad in the newspaper. Lost: One woman’s giggle. Used for many things like movies, a few extra glasses of wine with great girlfriends and sometimes, but not limited to, inappropriate times.

So what’s a girl to do when her giggle has gone missing in action? There certainly are no giggle stores. I’ve looked. I even searched the Internet. Nope the only way, in my experience, is to go directly to the giggle source. I had to hang out with my 9-year-old niece. A guaranteed giggle getter.

A few things have changed since our last giggle session. My niece has about another foot added to her height. She’s become more independent. She’s more beautiful and has a boyfriend.

But a lot was still the same.

We tossed out the word diet. It was mint chocolate chip ice cream, pancakes, pizza and anything else with high calorie counts. We didn’t care. We shopped. Stayed up late talking about whatever was on our minds. We turned a blind eye to the stares of those watching us dance in stores. And we giggled.

It felt good to giggle again. I forgot how it was to really unleash and laugh at the silliest things. There were no cares. Just giggles. We giggled about things I wouldn’t dare put in print. We giggled so much that I even think I got a couple of extra giggles in for the road. The giggle drought is certainly over and I’ve got my giggle back.

Shana Adkisson 366-3532 sadkisson@normantranscript.com