I’ve tried to write a few posts, but it hasn’t felt right.
I found out last Friday that my Grandma Weed died. Today was the funeral. Her death was expected (in fact, my entire family got together last summer to make sure we could have some final days together with her), but it still hasn’t felt quite right to publish my post about visiting the most hilarious store in the world when I was in Utah two weeks ago not having mentioned that I am back in Utah for a funeral.
I’m really particular like that, I guess.
The funeral went really well. It was well attended, and the program was nice. I ended up speaking, playing the violin, and singing (I did the ol’ sing-and-play-during-the-same-song trick). It was all really nice.
And then, afterward, I went to the bathroom and noticed that my fly had been down the entire time I spoke, played the violin and sang.
Not joking. Even a little bit.
Quote from my brother as I read this to him. “I’m horrified right now. I’m just glad your willie didn’t flop out.”
Me too, Chad. Meee too.
I’ll be back Monday posting about the store.