Two ways to lose oxygen

The first way happened to me last night. I'm like my dad this way, in that I have a love/hate relationship with being tickled. I know I laugh like some crazy hyena when I'm being tickled, but honestly, I hate it. Don't ask me why, you'd think it would be fun to let loose and laugh, but you'd be wrong. At least this is how it is with me. So, Aaron decides to make it his mission to find new ways to torture me and when he started in with the tickling last night, if I had any bodily movement control, I would have hurt him. The thing is, when said torture is occuring, it's like I'm transported out of mt body and I thrash around violently, and laugh like a hyena. Who acts this way? Not normal people, that's for sure.
It's a sad sight really. Anyways, when Aaron finds a spot, he never gives up, so this resulted in me laughing to the point where I lost my breath and my face turned the shade of red that we painted the office. I thought I was going to pass out from loss of oxygen. Luckily, I didn't get to that point, but I have to say, I was reeeallly close.

The second way to lose your breath and have to pull over to catch your wits about you and not think of what could have happened, occured on my drive to work this morning. After turing onto a stretch of road that has 5 lanes, not a freeway, but busy nonetheless, I see a young child in the turn lane. Everytime I see a child in a road, I believe I can will him or her across the road to safety, simply by following them with my eyes. If I'm riding with Aaron and we pass a kid waiting to cross the road, I will literally turn around to make sure he crossed safely. Yes, I'm a control freak like that. Anyways, I see that a couple of his friends had crossed and were waiting for their friend to cross as well, he's kind of hesitating in the turn lane and taking a step back and forth and I am far back and I slow down because I just know he's going to cross. Sure enough, he bolts for it and I'm getting closer but he's already out of my lane anyways. Just out of the corner of my eye, I see a car coming in the lane beside me.fast. He doesn't see the child. The child is about 10 more steps to safety and this car is still coming. I'm stopped in the road and I lose my breath and all I can do is lay on the horn and scream "NO!"

1 foot.

You know how everything happens in slow motion when you're scared? I actually think I might have closed my eyes. And when I opened them, The car had stopped about one foot from this little boy and then the boy hopped up on the curb. Emotion overwhelmed me and I stayed stopped in the lane for a moment, crying and thanking God that he spared this little boy. And then I got angry with myself for acting so foolishly and leaving it all up to chance, when all I had to do was swerve my car over into the next lane to let the car hit me instead of the boy. You think of these things after the fact, of course. Even more disturbing to me were these factors:

1. We were in a school zone, why was that car going so fast anyways? And HELLO, where there is a school, there are typically kids.
2. After the care came to a stop, he proceeded to peel out and drive like a bat out of hell.
3. There was a crosswalk about 100 feet from where these kids were crossing. Who dropped the ball on teaching these kids where it was safe to cross?

So while I've fully digested my heart since swallowing it this morning, I can't get the image or the "what if's" out of my head.

Two ways to have loss of oxygen. I'd take the first one over the second any day.

Happy Friday.