Today a fish died. Ryleigh was responsible. In an attempt to right her wrong, she decided to hold a funeral for it. None of the other children wanted to attend, their calendars were full with sidewalk chalk dates, X-box Live, and soirees at the kiddie pool. I was baking a cake and did not want to be present either. I was entertaining the thought, however, I was still hesitating thinking of what still needed to be done.
“Please,” Ryleigh begged. “No one is coming and we have to pay honor to the fish with prayers and nice words,” she said as she was holding out a black cape for me to wear. She had already changed into a black gown and rigged a make-shift funeral outfit of black onto her baby doll as well. “You’re going to miss out on the party favors if you don’t come,” she added.
“Funerals don’t have party favors,” I told her.
“That’s because those funerals didn’t have ‘Ryleigh-style’.”
“Here I come,” I said, needing to know what my ziploc bag of funeral fun might hold.
Draped in a cape as Ryleigh sang a song and said a prayer, my cake waited and I smiled. I am now convinced that every funeral should pass out goodie bags of gum, lip gloss, and stickers. I hope Ryleigh plans my funeral. If she does, you will want to be there.