When would that be? I laugh at myself more frequently now than I did, say, 30 years ago. Even 40 years ago. When did I start laughing at myself?
I recall my sister Barb and I laughing at ourselves in college, the morning after a tornado warning saw us dancing on each other's heads, not altogether figuratively. Panic mode makes one dance, for sure. We did a panic dance, then ran to our bathtub, did a panic dance in the tub, and then ascertained we would only be safe if we ran across the street to the neighbors' cellar. I cannot describe what footwork we did, but suffice to say, it was funny. Funny!
Out of college and a flight attendant in New York, one afternoon I was returning home from a European flight. I was tired. I was jet-lagged. I went through U.S. Customs with no problems. I walked to the street level and headed out to the street. There was a turn-stile/baffle gate made of glass which requires pedestrians to walk single-file to the exit of the airport building. As I entered the turn-stile, so did another person, someone who looked international, and who might not have understood the "one-person-at-a-time" configuration of this baffle gate. No sooner did he approach and
Any more I find lots of opportunities to laugh at myself.
The time I accidentally threw my handbag over the castle wall in Heidleburg...
The time I drove over 20 miles west, past my turnoff to "go home"...
The time I wore one slingback and one pump to church...
I could certainly go one; the moments are gaining as I write.
But! According to Ethyl, I have grown up.
~ About time.