I have to tell you all a story, take from it want you wish, I won't try to sway your reaction....before I can begin the story though, I have to give you a couple of facts that will play a part...1.)My Mother was the love of my Father's life. 2.) My Mother and Father were polar opposites. 3.) My Mother was very prim and proper and she had a habit of correcting my Father quite often on the pronunciations of certain words, if he said herb and pronounced the 'h' she would correct him and say "it's pronounced erb, Bill, the h is silent", well, when I was a teen, Mom was accidently knocked off the back of our boat during Contraband Days and she looked up at Dad and said, "Help" and he took the opportunity to say, "Don't you mean elp?"
4.) needless to say, my Mother didn't always appreciate my Father's wonderful sense of humor....so here goes...
Mom's funeral service was lovely but at the very end of it the pastor made a HUGE faux pas...he was saying that everyone that met my Mother would agree that she was a wonderful and kind lady and that she touched the lives of those around her and he was sure that everyone that had the luxury of meeting her would certainly agree that their lives were all the more bitter for having met her....
Of course he immediately recovered, apologized profusely and then repeatedly assured us that he meant to say 'better' not 'bitter'....On his way out of the church, Dad handed the pastor a hefty check and said...."just a little donation for such a perfect service.".....
