A couple of days ago I wrote of how one son wanted to cremate The Wretch and me. After my mouth finished hanging open, I took it with my usual good grace and humor.
Another son, Rob, has a different idea for the resting place for my bones. Rather than have a nice monument or even a small but tasteful grave marker, he wants to put a granite bench over me. In that way, he explained, he can sit on me whenever he wants.
This from the son, who was the start of suckling my girls into their present droopy state? What have I done to deserve such ungrateful children?
It boogles the mind.
When I recovered from the shock, I reminded him that I wasn't gone yet and that I may well outlast him. Gues who will be sitting upon whose bones then?
Gem for the day: if you have an ungrateful child, change your will. You can always change it back later. Maybe.