You know the deal. The harder you try not to laugh, the more you laugh. It might not even be that funny, but you are past the point of no return and close to peeing your pants over something like this:
Last week, I think it was Wednesday night, we were tucking in the kids. My husband was coming out of the Nolan and Ben's room, and he and Nolan were bantering about something; and Nolan said, "Watch it, Dad, or you will wake up with a snake in your bed." My husband shook his head, like 'where'd he come up with that?' as I peeled off down the hallway, giggling uncontrollably, as the most ridiculous thought took over. He looks at me, "what's so funny?"
"Dude, isn't this where you're supposed to hitch up your pants, and say something like, "Boyah, I already sleep with an anaconda in my bed"??" He snorts, and tries to gesture to me to keep it down.
"Weren't you just on them about their language and the content of the shows they watch? Like an hour ago?"
I'm still laughing. He's walking into our room now, and he's shaking his head. It's dark, so I'm in slumber-party-giggle mode, tired and stupid style. "How about, "I've got a python..." "
"Stop it," Mr W says, as he is getting a little chuckle going and climbing into bed.
"Fine then," I go on, "It's a garden snake." "Anna..." "an inch worm..."
I couldn't stop chortling. The kids pipe up, "What's so funny, Mom?" as I walk by their room, setting me off again.
"Goodnight," I said as I took a deep breath.