I've been known to snort on occasion.
But something happens to me when I get nervous...
My chortle is replaced with a Betty Rubble teeter.
I can hear myself, but am powerless to stop myself.
Making important phone calls fills me with dread.
High-pressure face to face appointments are torture.
Like going to have our taxes done...
Which we just did.
I suspect it may be genetic.
My Mom and my sister Ann are also afflicted.
So far, Sweetums doesn't appear to have inherited the Rubble blood.
She laughs like Snoopy.