Donna has requested that I flaunt my stupidity and embarrassment and relive The Funeral Story. I will oblige, only because she is such a special sister and she will forgive my ignorance.
The year was around 1990. Ron had just begun dating Leiann and we had met her wonderful parents. News came that Leiann's grandfather had died and the services would be held in Itaska. Ron planned to attend and I asked to ride with him to show the family my support.
All went according to schedule until we all gathered in the cemetery. Leiann's parents were so appreciative that we had traveled the distance to pay our respects. They thanked me profusely and I said "you're welcome" until I ran out of things to say. Next, when they thanked me again for coming, I told them I enjoyed it.
Oops. I knew that didn't sound right the second it slipped out of my mouth. On the way home I decided to confess to Ron how his mother behaved at the funeral.
"They thanked me for coming and I told them I enjoyed it."
"You didn't!" he yelled.
"Yep. I told 'em I enjoyed it. Granddaddy died and I enjoyed his funeral."
Ron forgave me and even chuckled about it later. I felt terrible about it and shared my misery with others, hoping to gain some sympathetic understanding. No, it's turned into a big joke instead. I enjoy funerals. Any funerals I've attended since, my kids ask me if I enjoyed it or tell me it must have been the highlight of my day. Doesn't take much to amuse me.
There you have it. The day I discovered what really melts my butter.
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8 comments:
I love it!!! It's just as funny now when you tell it as when Angela told us years ago!!
And thanks, today's been a crappy day. I needed a laugh!
You're gonna love your golden years. I can see you every morning reading the obituaries planning which funerals to go to.
Cristal, I believe Peggy does read the obits.
Now I remember. Did her family forgive you? It's hard to know what to say in situations like that. Preachers don't like to hear that you "enjoyed the sermon" either. So that is another moment when you shake the preacher's hand as to what you should say after the sermon. Something like "really spoke to me" comes to mind.
When I was a teenager my Mom would ask me how I liked the sermon after church knowing full well that I didn't pay any attention at all. I would tell her "I really liked the part about Jesus and how much He loves me." She would always laugh and leave it at that.
Classic story, Mother.
Now how about the one about you on the chiropractor's table?
I haven't heard the chiro story. Get blogging!!
Please tell the Chiro story. I'm sure I've heard it, but it will be like the first time I'm sure. I remember he was a cute Chiro.
Oh yes, pretty lady, tell us about your body as an accordion.
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