The funeral director was asking us what we think Mum should wear in her casket.
Mum always loved to wear sarongs (fabric wraps that go around the torso and drape downward a bit like a long skirt would), so my uncle suggested that she wear a sarong in there.
The funeral director looked a bit confused, as did some of our family members, to which my uncle added:
"What's sarong with that?"
I started laughing like an idiot. He was proud of it too. The funeral director was rather shocked. We assured her, and our more proper relatives, that Mum would've absolutely loved the joke (which is very true).
His delivery was perfect. I'll never forget the risk he took. We sometimes recall the moment as a way help cushion the blows of the grieving process.
--Edit-- I appreciate the condolences. I'm doing well and the worst is behind me and my family. But thanks :)
--Edit-- Massive thanks for all the awards and kind words. And the puns! Love 'em.
She calls herself Mrs Doubt-Pfizer
If anyone asks, you've not seen us.
She's a vigilauntie.
'I wish I'd listened to my mother' Why? What did she say? Dunno, I wasn't listening
Chrysanthemums.
Itβs been oolong time since my mum was born,
About Six-tea years to date,
Chai as you might, you canβt possible list,
her cupious amazing traits
Her balanced demeanour
Her Kindness and (earl) grace,
rooibost sense of humour,
too many to name in this teany space,
to pekoe out just a few does not do her justice,
letβs not stir things up and cause more of a ruckus,
While this ode may be (chamo)miles away from a Maya Angelou,
Itβs just an obnoxious way to say how very matcha I love you.
She's my Aunt Acid.
Granola
After exclaiming how nice and new it all looked, I began to sing in my best Louis Armstrong voice: "...I think to myself, what a wonderful Word."
I just called them both Mum.
My wifeβs gone to the Caribbean.
Oh, Jamaica?
No, she went of her own accord.
He does it mainly with other dads. Who all seem to be in on it and ALWAYS ask "Jamaica"as opposed to another Caribbean island! It's like a world wide conspiracy.
My parents are currently in the process of selling their house. Mum has been tidying a lot because potential buyers have been coming through to have a look.
On a recent visit, I noticed that some wall pictures which had been hanging in the same places for years had been replaced by mirrors. I asked Mum about this:
Me: What happened to all the pictures?
Mum: I had to put them away
Me: Well what's with all the mirrors then?
Mum: I want people to be able to see themselves in this house
Cos' she's apeeling
Val: Hi Ray, it's Val here.
Ray: Hi Val here it's Ray!
Val: Erm oh (pause) is Mary there please?
Ray: Yes Val here, I will just pass you over to her.
Seriously I hate my dad sometimes. At what age does it become acceptable for your humour to deteriorate to this?
