At that instant, I decided on my number one rule for my funeral: There shall be no car pooling. I want a long procession. I want to mess up traffic. I want people to say, "Wow, that person had a lot of friends!" If there are five people in a family and they all drive and own cars, then they all have to drive by themselves. My own family will not be riding together in a limo. No! No! No! If family members and friends fly in for the festivities, I would like them to rent cars. There shall be no car pooling.
Rule number two: Don't mourn my death, rejoice my life! Puhleeze, find something nice to say about me. Remember all the good times. Don't worry about me, I will be in a much better place (probably running away from Brad). I hope there will be people at my funeral that can say nice things about me. At the rate I am going, if I don't hurry up and die there might not be nice things to say. Remember what your mother told you, "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all."
Rule number three: Sing the songs. Stand up, dance to the music. Even if you can't sing, sing loudly. I have spent an exorbitant amount of time picking the perfect songs for my funeral. (I know, I need to get a life.) I have taken careful consideration picking mostly upbeat songs. I had to pick one or two that might tug at your heartstrings, but most are uplifting-get-out-of-your-seat-clap-your-hands-and-sing-along songs. Don't be a party pooper. I know, I know, I am a party pooper. I am not fun. I am depending on my guests put the f-u-n in funeral. SING! SING like you're singing for your supper!
Rule number four: Don't sprinkle rose petals on my casket. I hate roses. I do not think they are fragrant. I hate the smell of roses, so I would prefer they not be anywhere in the vicinity. If a flower arrangement with roses is present, it is a clue that the sender didn't know me at all. Point and laugh at them, I give my permission. I like cheese as a matter of fact I love cheese. If someone asked, "Cathy, would you rather have steak and potatoes, or cheese and crackers for dinner?" My emphatic answer would be, "Cheese and crackers, please!" So don't sprinkle rose petals on my casket. Don't sprinkle any flowers on my casket; sprinkle . . . . . . .grated cheese.
I like cheese. I like steak. I like potatoes. I like wine. I love ice cream. But, I hate that diet dog food you are feeding me. Unhuh, I know it is diet food. I can tell the difference. Did you think I just fell off the tomato truck?
The Flip Side
I like cheese. I like treats. I like Paco's toys. I don't know how many times I have to say this, but I don't like that dog called Reflection. He has got to go!