Women who cackle are almost always superior to women who don’t.Linda Holmes

I noticed lately that I have been cackling more. (Which, according to the above quote, is a good thing, so I am fine with it.) I first embraced the cackling a few weeks ago, during an episode of The Amazing Race in which Colin completely melted down because of an ox. I had just had a long day of work, and I came home to watch him meltdown. And I cackled.

According to the definition, cackling is not the most appealing form of laughter. But it feels good to cackle when you read something snarky or you see something like Colin’s meltdown. On Sunday when the outgoing music minister was speaking to the congregation and said, “I feel like I just won an Oscar!” and then went on a little too long. I leaned over to Mike and said, “I dare the organist to ‘play her off the stage.'” It’s a good thing it was the end of the service, because it was definitely a cackling moment. I have been cackling at things I read, strange things at work, and stories Mike tells me about his classmates.

There are moments to giggle and moments to chortle, moments to roll on the floor and moments to (unsuccessfully) laugh quietly when you’re not supposed to be laughing. Cackling is a little bit of funny plus a little bit of schadenfreude (which I expect Geof will take as a shout-out) mixed in with a slightly twisted sense of humor. And I have been enjoying the cackling lately. Very much indeed.

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