Last night, my father and I were cleaning up the kitchen, or rather I had just burnt the outside of a piece of ciabatta and was cutting off the crust while he was putting a plastic bag in the trashcan. Anyway, I was holding the burnt crust pieces in my hand, waiting for him to finish lining the trash bin, and when he finished I tossed the bread pieces... at the exact same moment that he pushed the bin forward for me to discard the crusts.
It doesn't really sound that funny, perhaps, but we spent a good two minutes laughing about it, about the spontaneity and simple comedy of the moment, and it was the hardest I had heard my dad laugh since I can even remember. It felt really good to laugh like that with him, at something so simple. Afterwards though, I got a little sad at the fact, because it's a little depressing how life has been so depressing for him lately [at least as far as I know] that I haven't heard him laugh, I mean really laugh, in so many years.
But also, it was kind of a sweet moment, because for just those few minutes, life seemed pure once again, and we were taken back to a time from my childhood, when life was simpler and moments like this seemed to happen all the time. It's moments like these that show me just how much we take our childhoods for granted, now that laughter seems to have become so rare.