Sally-Part 36. MAKING GEMMA LAUGH!

BEAUTY AND DIGNITY PERSONIFIED AT DISSINGTON HALL BUT COULD IT LAST? READ ON!

 I've only ever wanted to make women laugh!

Men tend not to laugh at me.

I was always the class clown, even as a five year old in school and this has continued throughout my life and I'm pleased to see that my six year old grandson Dylan has
inherited that particular gene.

I think that I'm like it because being odd-looking, alright ugly and frighteningly skinny and therefore aware from a very early age that I stood little chance of winning a girl's heart the way that strong and handsome men did, I would have to use my wits. I was, frankly an odd-bod with the thinnest legs I've ever seen, which is why you will never see me in shorts: in fact shorts suit very few men and cut-offs even fewer and older, pot-bellied men in cut-offs and sandals and brown suit socks should be hung!

Dylan is incredibly handsome and well built, so there's no real reason to be like me except for idiocy being a boy thing.

Fathers are just big children and their children will always try and get them into trouble!

Gemma still tries to get me into trouble with Shirley by reporting anything I say to anyone else..

I never speak to another woman when I'm with her or give a tart an admiring glance. These things will go and have gone straight back to the boss!

But making Gemma laugh was always on the agenda

This photo says it all, taken at her ( first ) wedding, during my one hour seven minute speech!

OBVIOUSLY NOT! ONE HOUR AND SEVEN MINUTE FATHER-OF-THE-BRIDE'S WEDDING SPEECH! NO ONE TOLD ME THAT FIVE MINUTES WOULD BE ABOUT RIGHT!

THOUGH A LOT OF HER EARLY YEARS WERE SPENT IN TEARS !

I THINK THAT SHE WAS JUST IMPATIENT TO GROW UP !

And my favourite happened when she was about twenty and home from University which coincided with an overnight visit from my old friend Gerald (a pseudonym for a female friend of my wife's !)  who couldn't pronounce his "R's" properly!

I forewarned Gemma about him and said that if she saw me stroke the side of my nose at any time during dinner that she was not to laugh and preferably not even smile!

How cruel!

My first little throat-clearing-attention-seeking cough came at about five minutes into the meal , once I sensed that the conversation had already become so dull with questions about what had become of people I could hardly remember that I had started breathing very slowly and deeply with a nasty snort half way in.

My cough was accompanied by a short boss-eyed stare at Gemma whilst silently blowing out my cheeks which caused a warning glance to be returned with a kick to my shin which could, unfortunately be clearly seen by everyone through the glass-topped table.

I ignored both and carried on eating politely, managing to appear entranced in the chat.

Kick! Eh? I thought, touching the side of my nose, thus bringing out a tiny choking squeak and a harder kick from my daughter!

Shirley gave me her warning look-of-death but I had a war to win!

He carried on regardless, offering advice and his very boring thoughts on life, which in itself made the urine release muscles on the three of us weaken dangerously.

Try this if you find find yourself bored witless at a dinner party and on the verge of uncontrollable laughter before it all gets out of hand.

Look down at your plate with your face muscles relaxed into a slighty quizzical interested look as you come up and silently drill into your daughter's eyes when she is doing everything in her power to avoid eye contact. If she once again lets out a small squeal, you know you are winning.

Do not try the trick where you rest one elbow on the table but pretend to slip and lose your balance because that's too unsubtle and plainly rude and immature.

Bide your time for one more minute.

Then as your wife is saying, for probably the fifth time and because she is only trying to find out more about her husband's rarely aforementioned schooldays " .......And was he really that much disliked by everyone who knew him ?"......snort with a medium to heavy snot content, cough, go boss-eyed, suck your cheeks in as far as you can and stroking your nose, stare at your victim!

My victim fell apart, tears shooting clear of her face as she appeared to explode as though food had gone down the wrong way, flung back her chair and ran into the kitchen, followed rapidly by me trying to show concern and making sure I shut the door behind us.

Well, of course we both collapsed in hysterics with Gemma beating me to a pulp and swearing to get even with me somehow, someday!

I'm still waiting Gemma!

Of course I apologized profusely when we returned to the table, explaining how Gemma was prone to bouts of  the little-known " Sudden-onset-choke-snottle-swearing-hitting-and-biting syndrome" and we resumed dinner as though nothing had ever happened...except NOW I daren't look at Gemma in case I had an attack!