🍪 Phillip’s Blog: “Why I Laughed (And Wish I Hadn’t)”

Hello!
It’s me — Phillip.
Yes, the Phillip. The one who smells like biscuits and sometimes is a biscuit, depending on the mood and weather.

Anyway.

I want to tell you a story. It’s not my funniest story. It doesn’t involve a trampoline or a custard emergency or the time I accidentally glued my tail to a goose.
(It was one goose. And I said sorry. And we’re friends now.)

This is a different kind of story. But it’s important.

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Once, I laughed at someone.
Not because they were telling a joke, and definitely not because they wanted me to.
I laughed because everyone else was laughing.

I didn’t start it. I didn’t plan it. I just… joined in. Like it was a game, and I didn’t want to be left out.

The person we were laughing at wasn’t in on the joke.
They looked down at the ground and didn’t say anything.
And in my tummy — just underneath the jam tart I’d had for lunch — something felt strange. Heavy. Like a crumb that wouldn’t go down.

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At the time, I thought:
“Well, it wasn’t that bad.”

And:
“I wasn’t the meanest one.”

And:
“They were acting a bit weird anyway…”

But when I went to bed that night, I couldn’t stop seeing their face as they looked down to the ground.

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Sometimes we laugh because it’s easier than asking questions, or we pick on someone else because we’re trying to make sure we’re not the ones being picked on.
Sometimes, we just don’t think.

But here’s what I’ve learned (the hard way, and the biscuit way):

You don’t have to laugh at something just because everyone else is.
You can change direction in the middle of a moment.
You can say, “Actually, that’s not funny,” even if your voice wobbles.
And if you’ve ever been unkind, you can be kinder now. That still counts.

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I’m sure the person I laughed at remembers. And I do too.
And it’s why I look around more carefully now — to notice who’s feeling left out, or looked at funny, or spoken to like they don’t matter.

Because everyone matters.
Even if they insist their backpack is haunted, say weird things, or bring pickled onions to school on purpose.

Especially then.

Thanks for listening. I’m still learning.
Pass the biscuits.

— Phillip 🐿️🍪