People often talk about their children being clever, talented or successful. Mine is all of those things, but her greatest gift is that she provides a full-time comedy service without ever meaning to.
Some people pay for streaming subscriptions. I just wait for a phone call.
Within five minutes she will have accidentally ordered enough toilet paper to survive a small apocalypse, locked herself out of her own car while holding the keys, or confidently given directions that somehow lead us back to the exact place we started.
Every family needs that person who can turn an ordinary trip to the supermarket into a sitcom. She can spend twenty minutes looking for her sunglasses while they’re sitting on top of her head and then announce, “Someone has moved them.”
Her facial expressions deserve their own television series. One raised eyebrow can say more than a thousand words, and her attempts to whisper are so loud that complete strangers become invested in the conversation.
Life can be heavy. Bills arrive, plans go wrong, people disappoint us. Then she appears with a story that begins, “Don’t laugh…” and immediately guarantees everyone will.
Scientists tell us laughter releases endorphins, reduces stress hormones and strengthens social bonds. In other words, she’s basically a walking wellness programme who occasionally forgets where she parked.
The best part is that she laughs at herself. There is no ego, no pretending to be perfect, just a wonderfully chaotic human being who reminds everyone that life is far more enjoyable when you embrace the ridiculous moments.
So here’s to the daughters who dance in the kitchen, send voice messages that sound like live comedy shows, make us snort tea through our noses and somehow turn disasters into family legends.
In a world that often takes itself far too seriously, being the person who makes everyone laugh is a genuine superpower.
And yes, I still haven’t let her forget the day she confidently waved at a mannequin because she thought it was someone she knew.
It’s impossible to put a price on the people who make you laugh until your stomach hurts. They don’t just brighten a room—they remind you that joy often arrives in the most unexpected, wonderfully ridiculous moments.
