Feeling: DOGGONE MIRTHFUL
I’ve said before about that quote, “Enjoy the little things in life, beause later on you’ll look back and realise they were the big things” or how I’ve come to paraphrase for myself: “It’s the small shit, not always the monumental, so appreciate every genuine giggle”.
And it is. I’m not one to get all gushy (I feel like a right old tosspot on the odd occassion I do so openly) and gaily profound, but this is one of those roll-your-eyes sayings that rings loud and true.
Take yesterday. I was out at my lake front office (i.e. The Karapiro Water Ski Club; funds haven’t extended to rent me an actual waterfront pad) and the old (well, younger) brother James came out to say howdy-hey and hang with me and Otto, my schnauzer assistant (his role description is as follows: keep me company, accompany me on my sporadic swings when words won’t go right and eat the occasional Tiny Teddy I take for his afternoon tea). (Kidding Henio, he’s not bulking from me sneaking him sly bikkies).
Brother James and I were in our own respective worlds (myself a thousand deep in a memory bank chapter, the Wort enthusiastically googling UFC fighters and guys with rad tattoos) when the little bro clocked eyes on a kiddy wetsuit reclining on the couch.
“Oi,” he said, quirking his eyebrows.
Well. No more words were needed; I knew exactly what he was implying.
“Otto….” I called.
See, Otto has always been one to love being dressed up in human attire. One summer we put him in a bikini and he frolicked about the lounge, languishing in the hilarity at his expense. One Sunday AM after a rather rowdy night at the Mud, my hungover (well, still slightly intoxicated self) decided that putting Otto in one of my dresses and taking him into town would be downright comical (it certainly was, even when I sobered up). Otto truly loves it.
I haven’t laughed like that in a long time. These were uncontrollable, irrepressible guffaws from the gut. Otto just looked so funny and he was basking in the attention (I think he thought he looked like his hero Henio).
However, I think after ten mins or so Otto got a bit over it, especially when he attempted to walk and had to do a sort of side shuffle on account of the relentless rubber.
After a few snaps we released him and his sulking stopped. But the burst-out-in-chuckles continued for the rest of the day.
See? The little, tiny, most seemingly insignificant things are often the ones that bring the vastest amounts of joy. Even now I’m chortling away as I walk and write (yes, the old groin is still giving me arseholes) (as in trouble I mean, not a reference to my own).
So, in the least gushy way poss, I’ll reiterate: “Those little things that make you crack up, bust out in a grin or downright burst the bladder? (There might have been a little bit of wees on part of my convulsive cackles). Remember them”.
Also just a random addition to end on: aren’t Christmas trees weird? Once a year people chuck up a tree in the corner of their lounge or lounge room to hustle presents under and adorn with lights and ornaments. So strange! Off to Google.