Chad knows about number sixty one on my Life List (I really need to update that thing) and was really happy about it because it meant that he finally had someone to go with to the International Towing and Recovery Hall of Fame and Museum. Yup. This is a thing. It's not just a museum. It's a HALL OF FAME and museum. Jess, Michael and the Cabbage were uninterested and said they'd wait it out in the car. Michael said I couldn't come out until I knew exactly how someone got inducted into the Hall of Fame. It was the first thing I asked the man at the counter as we purchased our tickets. To be considered for the Hall of Fame, you must have been part of the towing and recovery industry for at least twenty years, active in your community, and "over all good guy". Chad added "or good gal?" and the man said "Oh yes. Or good gal. we have women inductees all the time." Towing and Recovery is an equal opportunity industry.
First, we watched a short movie that talked about the museum and showed us all the tow trucks we were going to see. Then we went and looked at tow trucks. We saw old tow trucks, big tow trucks, small tow trucks and even the World's Fastest tow truck. It's a small museum, but we made the most of it by taking all kinds of pictures. Some of the trucks had velvet rope fences around them so you couldn't get up too close. Unless you knock them down, like Chad did. He was taking a picture of one tow truck and I was half paying attention to him when I heard this loud thunk. I looked over and he had backed himself into one of the velvet ropes and knocked over one of the poles the rope was hooked to. That was enough to make me start giggling, but Chad had to take it one step further because as he went to set the pole back up, he inadvertently pulled another one down like a domino chain reaction. Now that little bit of slap stick put me on the floor gasping for air. There was a little old lady who witnessed the whole thing. She also started laughing. A really great ending would be "and that's how Chad and I got kicked out of the International Towing and Recovery Hall of Fame and Museum." Except that didn't happen. We did probably laugh more than any visitor has ever laughed in that museum.
That's the thing with Chad. Whenever the two of us are together, we are laughing. Even if we are crying about something like when we left Chris's ashes with General Bushrod R. Johnson. Chad said some lovely words that made us both start crying and I followed it up with "I'm going to put Chris under the General's nose. You think that's OK?" Which totally set us off with snotty laughter. There are two people in my life that have this affect on me and he is one of them. Talaura is the other one. Just have her scroll through her pictures of her and Sarge, the ones where she says "this is where I'm telling him a joke. And this is his reaction to that joke." That's enough. I can't even. So when I'm around either one of these two, I soak it up. I laugh until my sides hurt and tears leak out my eyes. Laugh until I am gasping for breath and rolling on the floor. It is the best exercise. For all things.
Happy Love Thursday.