Last night, Karen made pizza and generally waited on me for the evening, which I loved. I figured I'd take advantage, and mentioned that I had a taste for frosting, jokingly asking if she'd whip some up for me. She immediately got that lit-up kid look, and headed to the kitchen, insisting that I close my eyes. (Cue the slapstick music.) Ever the skeptic, I followed her orders, covered my eyes with one hand and began to giggle somewhat uncontrollably while I waited for her to return with her surprise. She continued to insist (loudly) that I not peek! NO PEEKING! I MEAN IT! So the covered eyes continued, as did our laughter. She approached me and I began to worry what might be in her hands, realizing it could be ANYTHING!!! I wracked my brain to think of the contents of our fridge and freezer -- it could be fruit, milk, veggies… or it could be a mean surprise like cold chicken soup. I was convinced that I might have something to be afraid of, so I covered my mouth. We both were laughing hysterically, and in between the laughter I could barely catch my breath. I had to give in, as you’d expect, and allow her to finish her surprise, so I opened my mouth and waited for what felt like MINUTES, only to hear the familiar sound of compressed air. She had sprayed whipped cream into my mouth, and the second I realized it wasn’t soup I was as hysterical as she was. I laughed harder, she laughed harder. I stood up, and laughed even harder… aaaaaaaaand then tried to take a deep breath. Yep, not the smartest move with a mouthful of whipped topping. I began to choke only for a second and then recovered, but not before the laughter turned to terror and I began to experience some rabid hybrid of laugh-crying. I couldn’t even contain it, and this noise escaped from my mouth that sounded like a wounded sea lion, tears streaming down my cheeks, while miraculously still laughing. (Imagine a very extended duck honk.) The look on her face was a cross between delight and true concern, since no one normally cries, laughs and wails at the same time. She kept saying she was sorry she tried to kill me with whipped cream, which was even funnier. After a few minutes I calmed down, and we kept laughing and recapping how in the hell that happened. "You're totally going to have to post a story about this tomorrow... I wonder if it will translate," she said. I don't know if it did, but just writing it made me laugh again.
I don’t think she’ll try to surprise me with food again, but I’m thinking that it may be my turn to surprise her, just to show her what she missed.