Devonne Brown

What makes me giggle?

I giggle when I get attention I don’t understand. I feel too exposed, and I don’t like the word “vulnerable.” I’ve worked too hard not to be. I need to giggle more. It’s supposed to be good for you. I’ve heard it burns calories better than exercise. Some folks are born with a giggly personality, but I wasn’t. I laugh at inappropriate things, times, and names, but I don’t giggle much. My boys make me giggle when they goof with me, that’s ok. I understand them. I tried hard to give them normal names, so no one would giggle at them. I’ve never been comfortable with my name. 

Nervous laughter. I try to avoid those situations, parties, showers, weddings, celebrations. I’m a control freak when it comes to that. Uncomfortable. “You just act like nothing bothers you,” said Arbutus. Her whole name was too weird, so we all called her Bood. It was the kindest name of any kind anybody could call that child. Her whole name was so bad, Odie Opal Arbutus. I don’t know what my grandmother, Dicey, was thinking when she was handing out names. She came up with some doozies. Myrtle Belle, Stanley Hugo, Geraline. Otto, pronounced Ot-Toe… Since Early Ervin was her husband and they had eleven kids that lived, they had to get creative. Sylvia Hope, we call her Sylvie, the youngest, has my favorite name…she makes me giggle with her tales. I trust her.

My other grandmother, Virgie and her husband Oral Homer, they weren’t any better at naming kids. Aredith Athalee, that baby would have been picked on in school had she lived. She named my mom Elwanda Lucille. I shake my head when I think of a tiny baby crawling across the floor and somebody cooing “Elwanda Lucille,” it just doesn’t work, neither does Janice Effie. 

I giggled in horror last weekend at my niece’s baby shower. A young mom brought her daughter “Cackle” to the party. 

I just don’t get it.