Monday, February 21

kiss my ash

I called my Dad to ramble on about myself when the following not awkward at all conversation unfolded.

Hey Dad.  How's it going?

I've been thinking about what I want you do do with me when I die.

What? Were you just diagnosed with something?

No. No. I just want to be prepared. Plus I probably don't have long.

Dad! I'm calling your doctor.

I'm kidding. I do want you to cremate me and use the rest of my life insurance money for Ethan's college.

What if he doesn't go to college. Can we use it for bail money?

For who?  Ethan?

Yes Dad, I'm too precious for jail.

Yeah. Sure.  I've been looking online at prices and it usually runs about two thousand, but I've seen it as cheap at 900.

Wait.  You want me to discount cremate you?

Yeah.  What will I care?  I'll be dead.

Do you want me to do anything special with your ashes?

I can't think of anything.

Oh. Ok. I'll just put them on my nightstand.

No don't do that what if you knock it over?

Yeah, you're right. I am really clumsy. Then I'll have to vacuum you back up and there will be lint and dog food mixed in. That would be weird.

I was thinking of giving you a list of people and having you throw a handful of my ashes in their faces.

Oooohh. That is a good idea.  Or I can put you on my TV stand like my friend Nicola did for her mom, then when I go on road trips I'll put you in the backseat with Ethan.

Sure.  Just put my favorite shows on when you go to work.  Don't get me a fancy urn.  Don't let anyone guilt you into it.

Great dad.  I'll just discount cremate you and carry you around in a ziploc bag.  Classy.

I know what I want for the inscription on my urn.

Oh ok.  I'll write it down.

Kiss my ash.

No comments:

Post a Comment


Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...