When I was a kid, my first language was laughter. My inheritance. My father doesn’t know how to make it through 10 minutes without a joke. My mother, as serious as she is, laughs like a forest fire. My siblings taught me to snark and snickers before I knew Spanish or English. I grew up like this, laughing my lungs out and grinning without reason. It was the language of laughter, but it was also our language of love.