Last night, I cried myself to sleep. From. Laughing. Sometimes I’m sorry that the rest of the world doesn’t get to be able to hang out with my husband as much as I do. I mean, he’s a comical genius and I don’t even think he tries!

Let me back up. Sometimes things just tickle my funny bone; this has happened my entire life, but—strangely—usually at the dinner table. Growing up when this happened, my dad would announce to the rest of the family, “Oh, there goes Emily again.” Everyone else would continue eating until it had been an exceptionally long time since I’d taken a breath and then Mom would say, “Emily, don’t forget to breathe.” (Thanks for always looking out for me, Mom.) Usually my fits would last somewhere between 10 to 15 minutes where I just could NOT stop laughing to the point where I almost forgot what I was laughing about. I just knew that I was crying and laughing and crying and laughing and gasping for air so I could keep laughing.

Kevin has witnessed a few of these laughter attacks, but things rarely catch me so off guard anymore where I just can’t control myself. That brings us up to last night.

I had already gone to bed and was unwinding with a game of spider solitaire on my phone. Kevin came into the bedroom, dressed for bed in his typical shorts and a tee, holding a bath towel over his arm. I glanced over at him and said, “Why do you have a towel?”

In complete deadpan, he said, “I’m going to the beach.”

Even now, this still sends me into mini giggles, but last night, I flipped into another world completely. I could not, as hard as I’d try, stop laughing. I alternated between the silent-shaking-laughter (where Kevin would command me to breathe) to the louder-than-life-laughter (where Kevin would try to shush me because our neighbors could hear). Have you ever sobbed so long and hard that you get those hiccup-gasps? That’s how much I laughed last night. It was like gutteral sobbing, but happier.

Kevin finally went to sleep as I still struggled to calm myself down a good 30 minutes after the original statment. Every time I thought I was finally sober, I’d think of him holding that bath towel saying he was going to the beach and I’d bust up again.

“Oh, there goes Emily again.”

P.S. I later found out that he was just bringing it in to put in the hamper.