The best way to postpone death by embarrassment is to be the first to laugh at yourself. Laughing at oneself is self-healing; it inoculates you for the suffering that follows when others are only seconds away from doubling over in knee-slapping, screaming howls about something you’ve done.
We may not all share this philosophy, but I know we’ve all had embarrassing moments. Not as in getting caught with your zipper down, spinach wedged between your front teeth, or a booger flapping around in your nose like a bed sheet on a windy day, but as in when your pantyhose suddenly fall to your knees.
My Cub Scout Den Mother had a weird sense of humor. She decided a fashion show would be a good fundraiser, but she wanted us all to dress like our moms. When it was my turn to go on stage, I had to be pushed out. The safety pin holding my – er – my mom’s pantyhose up popped open and down they went. I tried to run behind the curtains but my legs became entangled in the hosiery and I fell. That was when my wig flew off. I looked like a turtle thrashing on hot asphalt before someone helped me to my feet.
I may have raised $50 that night, but I was not yet wise to the merits of self-healing laughter. I suffered greatly under my runway ridicule. This best explains why I still won’t wear a dress.
Let’s all laugh together at ourselves and each other. We’ll feel better about everything, I promise.
