She Laughed, Giggled, and Guffawed

I'm writing a novel about funny girlfriends in their mid-fifties, who laugh their way through the complexities of life.  And every time they turn around, they laugh, chortle, chuckle, smile, guffaw, snicker, grin, crow, cheer, and giggle.   Then, things get really funny, and they burst, erupt, and/or dissolve into laughter.  I have exhausted the Thesaurus, and that's just in my first 25 pages.

I need some new verbs for "laugh."  I stare at my computer and think there must be other ways for me to say "they laughed," because they have already snorted, choked, hooted and hollered, and blown beer out their noses.

Then I think maybe that's too much laughter.  Maybe they should be more restrainted, regardless of how many margaritas they have had.  So "Sylvie wrestles with her lips to keep from breaking into a smile."  "Niqi clenches her jaw to stop herself from laughing right in Kat's face."  "Suzanne freezes her face with a smile to avoid embarrassing her daughter."  Oops.  Laughing snuck into that middle sentence, even when I was trying to avoid it.

But what a bunch of spoilsports!  I know these ladies, and I know they would rather laugh.  So I try using dialog instead.  "Ha!" she said.   "Ha ha ha," she replied.  "Hoo-ey! That's a good one!" she agreed.  "Hardy-har-har, you baby," she retorted.

That works for a few pages.  But between their men and their children and their aging mommas, these gals just keep finding ways to make life entertaining, and inevitably they go back to laughing, chortling, giggling, and chuckling.

Oh well.  I laugh and decide to worry about it tomorrow.  Oops again.  I meant to say, "the twinkle in my eye belies the mirth in my heart."  It's five o'clock somewhere, and I'll look for new verbs tomorrow.

P.S.  I exaggerated.  I have never used "chortle," and I probably never will.