Die Laughing

I couldn't stop laughing and I was worried. But it would have been a great way to go out.

The last time I hung out with my brother, Chris, before the pandemic, was in a social setting with my family, his daughter, and our folks. We wanted to get out and do something that everyone could enjoy, at all age levels: Chris' daughter, Piper, was under 10; my kids were 18 and 16.

We decided to go to Level One Game Pub, near the ByWard Market, because it had games for every age level and the adults could enjoy drinks, too. It was our first time checking the place out and I'm glad we did so, even though it nearly killed me.

Much like fine restaurants have sommeliers to help you choose the best wine to go with a meal, there were experts at Level One that could determine the best games to play, based on age, level of complexity, and the interests of the gamers. Because there were eight of us, we had various games at our table and we split up the players into groups of four.

At one point, Kid 1 and Kid 2, Chris, and I played What Do You Meme?, where you try to match images with relatable memes, much like how you try to pair questions and answers in the game, Cards Against Humanity. And like CAH, some of the choices are rather risqué.

And hilarious.

My girls have pretty twisted senses of humour, much like their dad, and some of their photo-meme pairings were downright hilarious. Also, when I was trying to match up my own memes to images, I'd start laughing before playing the cards.

And I mean laughing hard.

So hard, that I couldn't stop. My face turned a garnet red and I had difficulty catching my breath. My laughing fit became so intense, so unstoppable, that everyone at the table stopped what they were doing. My brother asked me if I was okay, and I said, between gasps, that I didn't know.

DW captured some images before putting her phone down and wondering if I was going to keel over. Even people at surrounding tables couldn't help but notice.

Of course, I didn't collapse, didn't drop dead. After a couple of minutes, I was able to get my breathing under control, slow my guffaws to a mere giggle, to sighs, and regain my composure.

But we had to end the game. Any match I tried to make would get me going again. Not as bad but we didn't want me returning to that state.

Yes, when I finally go out, I would love to die laughing. At least then, anyone around me would know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I died a happy man.

Happy Thursday!