I have a friend who laughs so easily at the smallest of things. She gets “tickled” as some like to say, and simply begins laughing loud and long regardless of who is or who isn’t laughing with her. And it’s a “real” laugh – tears, snot, and all the show-stopping works. Today, she did it again. In that moment, I wanted to be her, the woman behind “the laugh”. I wanted to feel its first rumblings in my stomach, then the rising up inside my chest until I couldn’t have held my breath a second longer, spilling it carelessly into the atmosphere like clashing chimes during a rainstorm.