May They All Rest in Peace

Margaret had been married for sixty-three years to a man she once loved but had forgotten why.

“Mom, is there anything I can get you,” her daughter in-law inquired at the funeral?

“For God’s sakes, of course there is. Get me a god damned beer?”

Normal for an Irish Catholic, the daughter-in-law knew, so she went about her task.

“Where are you going?” her husband muttered as she walked out the mortuary door with her friend, Linda.

“Oh, just a little woman problem, honey. We’ll be right back.”

If a woman wanted a man to not ask questions, all she had to say was, “a little woman problem.” Didn’t take a lot of marriage years to learn the rescue phrase.

Southern Illinois was a curiosity on Sunday. No liquor could be sold until noon. Well, what was to be done when a woman needed alcohol at nine? Wait? Hell no, not in an emergency.

“My Mother-in-law is in deep distress, and I need a couple of Miller Hi Lights right now, if you please?”

“Mam, I’d like to help but rules are rules. Come back at noon, please.”

It was a long story but shorter than noon. They pled their case, flashed a twenty and won.

“Mom, go to the bathroom and lift the top of the toilet tank. There’s a surprise for you,” she whispered discreetly.

Pop, swish, ahh. That’s what daughters-in-laws are for.

May they all rest in peace.

— Mugsy

Comments

  1. At least, that's what good daughter-in-laws are for.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Important at funerals. A bit of alcohol. I was expecting a bit more about the 63-year-old marriage, but this was better! ---Macoff

    ReplyDelete
  3. Pled their case, fladhed a twenty and one. Loved this.

    ReplyDelete

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