I don't know about you guys but as a kid if I found something particularly funny I would go into uncontrollable fits of laughter, unable to talk and just able to breathe.
This used to annoy my mother intensely, she was not known for her sense of humour at the best of times, and she never forgave me for finding this incident amusing.
Back then food shopping was not a weekly supermarket event but daily from small local stores. The staples of milk, eggs and bread were delivered to the door and in the winter a crumpet man would tour the neighbourhood on a bike, with a huge wicker basket on the front, ringing a hand bell to alert prospective customers.
On this particular day, there was snow on the ground when we heard his bell. My mum grabbed a plate and went out to buy half a dozen which would be toasted in front of the coal fire for tea. Mum was a little lady, standing five foot nothing, and our front garden was bordered by a four foot six hedge. So having gone through the gate all I could see, as I watched out the window, was the top of her head bobbing up and down as she walked to the crumpet man.
After a moment she started to make her way back, again her head just visible over the hedge.
Suddenly her head disappeared, and was immediately replaced by a flying plate and crumpets.
Minutes later my mother came in rubbing her backside, having slipped on the icy path, to find me rolling on the floor paralysed with laughter.
She was not amused, and there were no crumpets for tea that afternoon!