There are situations where laughter is not just inappropriate, it’s tactically unsound. Maybe you're at a funeral and the priest is saying something heartfelt and the word "moist" pops into your head and you're just doomed.

Or maybe you’re crouched behind a hedge, hiding, because aliens in a glowing saucer are harvesting your neighbors. You're crouched there with your family, praying that no one will make a noise and alert the aliens when you suddenly remember the time your teacher bent over to pick up chalk and ripped his pants all the way down to his Spongebob underwear.

You stifle the laugh, which then sounds like you're grunting and the aliens are all like "What's that?".

In a case like that, laughter is definitely not the best medicine.

Also, at 2am. At 2am when your significant other is sleeping. 2am when you also should be sleeping and most definitely not scrolling through funny videos.

It started innocently, as most catastrophes do: It was 2am, I couldn't sleep, so I thought I’d check the final score of the basketball game that was at half-time when I went to bed. So I did. And then, after that, I thought: "maybe just one harmless scroll through my social media to 'get sleepy.'"

Within thirty seconds the Algorithm had me by the brain stem and, it happened, a post got me. I couldn't even hear it -- I had the audio off -- but I didn't even need to.

It wasn't a full laugh. Not even a proper laugh. Just a quiet little "heh, heh". The laugh you make when you are in bed with your significant other and she's trying to sleep.

Next to me in bed, my significant other stirred. Just a small shift of weight. A tiny movement. But in the dark, at two in the morning, that movement was the equivalent of a bear opening one eye.

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Have you been here before? No longer scrolling for entertainment. Now you're defusing a bomb.

I froze. Slipped my phone under the covers. Breathing shallow, even. My posture that of a man who is absolutely asleep and has never been awake in his entire life. If there were an Olympic event for "pretending you were not just laughing at something on the internet when you should be sleeping," I would have medaled.

Then, she shifted again.

Now, I want to be clear: my girlfriend is not a light sleeper. She’s a reasonable sleeper. She can sleep through storms, sirens, and most of my opinions.

But we were prepared by Evolution to wake at certain sounds. For example, a baby crying, the growl of a wolf; and someone trying to stifle a laugh.

After a moment, she relaxed. I waited a beat more, then slowly pulled out my phone.

The Algorithm, sensing weakness, piled on.

The very next post: I Loled. I Stifled; but stifling transfers the energy normally used to laugh into heaving movements that shake beds like lovers in the throes of climax. And it's funny that the bed is shaking when you earnestly don't want it to. It's funny. And because it's funny, it all just spirals out of control.

I pressed my lips together so hard I could have sealed a submarine hatch. That didn't work, so I shoved part of my pillow into my mouth.

My girlfiend tilted slightly toward me.

Now my brain began to generate worst-case scenarios the way it does when it’s supposed to be sleeping.

• Worst-case scenario #1: She wakes up, sees me on my phone, and becomes understandably annoyed.
• Worst-case scenario #2: She wakes up, sees me with a pillow in my mouth, and calls an exorcist.
• Worst-case scenario #3: Well, I didn't come up with a third one. Let's be real, no one is making it past number two.

I will say, explaining the pillow-in-the-mouth is probably an easier task than trying to explain a funny meme to someone who just woke up. You can’t. The moment you start describing it, the humor evaporates. It's like trying to explain a dream.

"No, see… it’s like… the cat is… hahaha... edited to look like… and then the music is… never mind."

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But, once again, my girlfriend did not wake all the way up.

And so I did what gamblers do right before they lose their mortgage. And the next meme was funnier than the last one and I might as well have been listening to a John Mulaney comedy special at concert volume while jumping on a trampoline.

She lifted her head toward me and looked like she was going to say "What are you laughing about?" but then realized it wasn't worth it.

I clicked off my phone and held perfectly still. In the pitch dark, I couldn't tell if she was still looking at me, but I was aware that I was still holding the contraband.

For a long moment, nothing happened.

Then she exhaled, and I know that exhale. I put the phone down, finally realizing the lesson, such as it is, that:

Some comedy is a particular kind of comedy and it only exists because it’s inappropriate. The forbidden giggle. The joke you are not supposed to laugh at. It’s sometimes terrible, morally speaking, maybe inappropriate, and also it's the best.