Cawfee Talk

In the grand tradition of Church Lady - I bring you Cawfee Talk. Cawfee Talk is a place for all of you WIPs out there to stop in - have a cup-o-joe - and chat about whetver the heck I decide we will be talking about. Because, well, I am Word. And I always have the last one....word that is....the last word....I get it....not you. Humph.

Today's discussion: Laughing at inappropriate times. Ever done it? Word has. Let's discuss.

If there ever was a time not to laugh, this was it. The preist's monotone voice chanted, "Hail Mary. Full of grace...." over and over and over again. I stood in the back of the room packed with relatives I knew and relatives I didn't. Most were old. Except for in the back of the room. That's where I stood along with my sister, brothers, and cousins.

Grandma was in the casket. Mom and my aunt and uncle were kneeling before her - rosaries in hand. I'd never seen such anguish rest itself on my mother's face before. The tears I cried that day were for my mother first, grandma second.

I moved my thumb and forefinger over the next bead on my pink rosary. "Hail Mary. Full of grace...." A familiar sound trupeted over the prayer. Did somebody turn a television on someplace? I looked at my cousin. His angelic face turned a harsh shade of red. He began to frantically tug at his watch. Pushing buttons. Nope. The theme song to The Dukes of Hazard was going full throttle. He shoved his hand in his pocket to muffle the sound his watch was making. It didn't work.

I felt it then. The grin. It was coming. Oh no. My uncle gave my cousin "the look". Uncanny how my uncle's "look" was the exact male version of my mother's "look". It did me in. I couldn't stop. I was in full out laughter that would not stop.

"Hail Mary. ((snort laugh)) Full of Grace."