Since I tend to be relatively quiet and reserved, it makes me laugh when people are loud, crazy, or obnoxious, especially in public.
One fall afternoon, I was in the car with my brother. He was driving, and I was in the passenger’s seat. The angle of the sun had turned a cloud into a rainbow (at least, the red to yellow portion of the spectrum). I’ve never seen anything like it. I pointed out the phenomenon, and my brother also got excited about it. A while later, he asked if the cloud was still there. Yes, and still colorful! He rolled down his window and called out, “WHOOOO!” then raised his arm out the window and flashed the horns hand gesture in victory. He drummed his palm against the car horn as another car approached in the opposite lane. Through my laughter, I tried to deter him. “They’re not gonna know why you’re honking!”
I was reminded of this episode recently when the two of us were in the car again. A block into our trip, something caught my eye. “Ooh! Lights! I forgot about those!” I said excitedly. My brother knows that Christmas lights and are one of my favorite parts of the holiday season, so he humored me by driving toward the subdivision where I’d spotted them. As he navigated through the maze of streets, he asked, “Where was that house where they used to go all out, but they didn’t do it last year? Was it this one?” I looked toward the darkened building and empty yard alongside us. “With the jugs? Yeah.” A row of plastic milk jugs, about a foot apart, had bordered the lawn in other years. Each contained a large colored light bulb, creating the effect of an oversized strand of Christmas lights. My brother rolled down his window and yelled toward the house, “WHERE ARE THE JUGS?!” I couldn’t help but act as the straight man. ‘They probably don’t even live there anymore!’
We step into these roles like a comfortable pair of shoes: he delivers the punch line, and I’m the laugh track.