Putting the fun in funeral

I know I am not the most evil one of my siblings; that would totally be my sister (which one? I'll let them decide.) But I may have laughed and had impure thoughts (not that kind!)  at funeral today.

A woman who was friends with Gram and Mom died, so I am pretty sure I was trying to lighten the mood in my head by thinking mirth-some thoughts. The problem with that is that my mirth-some-ness rarely stays in my head.

My sister noticed two times i laughed at the funeral, which means I was able to cover it with a cough two other times.

The mirth-some thoughts she noticed:

1. Everyone laughed at this. My problem was I almost lost it. One of the kids doing the reading turned to the wrong page in the lectionary and started to recite the Gospel.
2. During Peace, the priest came over and laid hands on me, one hand anyway. I immediately imagined me standing up. I'd say in a deep baritone: "THANKS, FATHER. I NEEDED THAT." Then I'd add, :The power of Christ compelled me."

The others:

1. My hands were freezing, so I had them in my shirt like a fur-lined muff. But then I coughed. I kind of flashed the priests. And I didn't get any beads.
2. Finally, there were no pallbearers exactly. The whole family walked the casket in. That's cool, but for Mom or Dad we'll have three wheelchairs. Then I thought, What if I rode the casket, like a figurehead.That would be awesome. 

Maybe it is good I don't go to many funerals.