November 03, 2005

The Church Giggles: Pudding Puppet

This link reminded me of the worst case of the “church giggles” that I have ever had; I am pleased to be reminded so that I may bring this story to you.

My friend Leigh Yung Li is one of the funniest people I know; only someone like her would
fondle his-n-hers anatomically correct toothbrushes, or marry a man who wears this apron 24-7. Hanging out with her is a natural high. We’ve had slumber parties, written fake memos to our school (for which we got in trouble), and moved the principal’s car to the other side of the building. I’ve also felt her up several times, which is how I cement most of my friendships. Her boobs are taut, perky, and responsive.

One of the best stories I have about LYL involves the Pudding Puppet.

In early October of 2001, LYL and a few of our colleagues attended a benefit dinner for a local nature education center; it was a pay-by-the-plate event, with a silent auction, all proceeds to benefit the upkeep of this wonderful center. During dinner, we had lively conversation and hearty laughs, though we were surrounded by some of the town’s “old money” families and lots of people who looked down their long noses at our rowdiness. Nevertheless, we traded stories and examined our auction paddles, fighting over who got to bid with paddle number “69”.

Sometime during dinner, LYL, who does not eat food, turned her uneaten dessert into a little person. The dessert was tiramisu in a wine glass; LYL took the olives out of Gary’s martini and a ziti from Deb’s plate and made a face, then took the ribbon off my auction paddle to complete the look. The Pudding Puppet was now ready for action:


Now, ordinarily, something so juvenile would raise, at best, a smirk and a few giggles from me. But at this moment, the director of the center began talking to the room on the microphone, so it became inappropriate for us to be giggling. The harder I tried to suppress my laughter, the funnier it all seemed. It didn’t help that LYL’s pudding Puppet kept “interacting” with the tablemates during this time, shaking her little ribbon and looking at me imploringly with her pimiento-stuffed eyes.

We were getting some rather disdainful looks by this time, which of course made us laugh even harder; we did stifle the laughter, but it was obvious that we (teachers in the district, every single one) were being immature beyond all measures of propriety.

Then came the crowning touch.

A very old, distinguished woman got up (it turns out, the major benefactor of the nature center), took the microphone, and began speaking softly:

"After an event like 9-11, a place like the Wyatt Center reminds us of what is good, and true, and wholesome in our lives. It is a place where people can come to learn and to be together in nature, in fellowship, in learning…"

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! I screamed inside my head. Now it was totally inappropriate to be laughing! She said 9-11! It had just happened! We were all still open wounds!

It was horrible. At this point I was beyond any sort of help. I had my dinner napkin up around my face, half of it stuffed into my mouth, trying to gag the uncontrollable hysteria that was pouring out of me. Tears were flowing freely down my face. I take some comfort in knowing that a few people thought I was crying. When I was able to gain some measure of control, I got up from the table and walked the mile and a half to the door; in the lobby I exploded into laughter, which continued in the ladies’ room for a good ten minutes. I literally could not stop. I thought I might have to call an ambulance for myself. It was completely out of my hands; I was in the grips of monster hysteria the likes of which I have never experienced before or since.

I finally composed myself and, together with two others who had joined me in the bathroom laugh-fest, returned to the table.

The moment I sat down, LYL picked up the Puppet and wiggled it at me, saying (in an Elmo-like voice), Where did you go?

Round Two began just as spontaneously as the first, but didn’t last as long; I did have to excuse myself a second time.

The worst part is, I didn’t get to bid on the mountain bike I really wanted.

The best part is, the Pudding Puppet image is forever ingrained in my mind, and I can pull it out whenever I want.

I love the church giggles. Don't you?

9 comments:

Monkey said...

Oh my Lord. The Pudding Puppet will live in infamy here at the Monkey House. It is right up there with THUMB THUMB.

Here is an interesting theory that I heard once. The human being "discharges" emotional tension and the stress hormone cortisol in several ways. Crying, yawning and laughing hysterically. Obviously, you were suffering from discharge.

We on for tonight? I'll bring jello for LYL.

Harry Yak said...

finally another lyl story. she seems like such a trip. i love when you write about your adventures with lyl. don't understand the 'solid' food thing though.

cool hnt picture.

B.O.B.I. said...

I think I already told this story, but the "Negative, I am a meat popsicle" was my giggle-fest. Unfortunately, it only gets a smile out of me, now.

Good to hear LYL has some quality breasts going on. Always good news, in my book!

Bobby said...

aw, we can all be forgiven for this once in a while.

and the puppet was cute enough to start some....

Madge said...

Yes, I love the church giggles, and all the violent shaking that goes along with them.

Funny story, SG!

FRITZ said...

I was laughing aloud as I read this particular missive.
Thank heavens you and your friend are as sacreligious and ignomious as I am.

I'll have to use this story as a prompt for one of my own wholly inappropriate situations.

Used Hack said...

That's great. I'm about to cry laughing myself. :)

Sis B said...

Thanks for the laugh, SG! I read it while I felt that I should be quiet (in the office) and damn near peed myself. Perfect description. :)

LBseahag said...

This made me laugh so hard the nun grabbed me by the ear and dragged me out...