What Things Are Made Of

Bed & Breakfast

85 Bed & Breakfast According to Apache legend, when the first man wakened to discover the first woman beside him . . . he laughed. Then she laughed. And as they went off together, the world burst into springtime and song. —The Death of Comedy, Erich Segal Funny how you’ve wound up in the same bed with me. I laugh, you laugh that we, who want our son to dress himself, love to be undressed like little kids. I laugh, you laugh because belts, buttons, bras, and boxers start with b, and are such entertaining things. I laugh, you laugh to see how different bodies are. We could be playing doctor, stifling giggles so parents won’t hear. I laugh, you laugh to think how people name our favorite parts to curse—how children get time-outs and worse for saying what we love to do. I laugh, you laugh because, outside, a big gray squirrel, blue jays, and acorn woodpeckers are laughing too. I laugh, you laugh at how the squirrel’s laugh sounds like choked-back tears. We could weep for pure relief. I laugh, you laugh to think how long we’ve waited, how tortured were the roads that meet inside this room. I laugh, you laugh to hear boys shouting, “Easy out!” and “Dude, you’re doomed!” Hilarious, how people turn double plays, twitch Hula Poppers, peddle cheese planes with no thought of you and me. I laugh, you laugh to feel the fire we make by rubbing limbs. Beyond this bed, polar winds groan. Clouds swell to the brink of tears. I laugh, you laugh, it’s such good luck that’s brought us here. 86 I laugh, you laugh; the whole house sings. I laugh, you laugh. Winter’s gray water-balloon bursts. We’re bathed in spring. ...