I have a terrible problem with laughing inappropriately. It's not something I can easily control no matter how hard I bite my cheeks, dig my fingernails into my hands and force myself to think about terrible things. Earlier this week we had a gun safety class at work and I got the giggles when the police officer running the meeting told a room full of (mainly) women who don't like guns that there is NO WAY we can hurt the shotgun and demonstrated how to "unjam" the gun by banging it on the table repeatedly. I mean, I've always been afraid the gun would hurt ME! I've never even given a thought to hurting the gun. It was funny to me and I laughed.
Not a big deal at an informal meeting, but laughing at a funeral is NOT cool! Saturday morning I went to Jenny's dad's funeral with Evil Tara. I had to work before and after so we arrived at the tail end of the visitation and then were immediately seated for the funeral. Because we were on the late side, we were seated in front. The funeral began and was very nice and everything. The pastor asked us to rise and sing a hymn. Oh, "Blessed Assurance," I actually know this one! Tara and I rose to sing and this was when the trouble began...
The man directly behind me began bellowing in a baritone operatic vibrato. Though there was organ accompanyment and the organist was leading the singing, Mr. Warbler was on his own time and pretty much his own tune. It was completely unexpected! It struck me as WAY too funny. This was seriously some of the worst singing I've ever heard. Tara knows perfectly well I have a problem with laughing and spent the remainder of the song egging me on. Wow. I was about ready to explode. There were FOUR hymns throughout the funeral. It was BAD. I'm surprised I didn't need to stop at the ER on the way back to work to have my cheeks sutured. As if the singing wasn't bad enough, Mr. Charlton Heston wannabe kept hollering out "Amen!" or "Praise Jesus!" in his resonant, warbling voice.
Tara, I'm never going to another funeral with you! LOL!