First, the good news: I did not burst out laughing in the middle of singing at the funeral. However, sensing a need for some kind of outburst from the family, Leah happily obliged by announcing, "Mommy, POOP!" in the middle of the family prayer. Then, after thinking about it momentarily, she added, "I hold it."
She also made a song request right after the opening hymn by yelling, "Ring Around the Rosies!" Then she got mad at Matthew for touching her sticker book and, for dramatic emphasis, loudly ripped a page right out of the front. I spent the rest of the funeral in the hallway, wondering how much of the nonstop chatter from my children could be heard next to Grandpa's coffin.
At the graveside service my obedient little toddlers kept trying to touch a pile of bird poop on one of the surrounding headstones. "Don't touch that!" I said about a thousand times, and then finally explained, "It's bird poop!"
"POOP!! Mommy, it's POOP! Yucky!"
My apologies to the Grandma and the National Guard. Hopefully the noise of the gun salute drowned out the noise of my children and their poop obsession.