Why Papa Needs Shopping Supervision

Hello folks, let’s chat… There are certain men who shouldn’t be allowed to go shopping for their sweethearts without supervision. By certain men, I’m talking about Papa.

My parents recently celebrated their 49th wedding anniversary. Papa remembered this all on his own, which is good. He brought Mama flowers from the funeral home flower shop. That wasn’t so good. If you’re thinking “But, Shellie, people buy flowers from the funeral home for all kinds of happy occasions” you have a point. The problem is someone there was either not paying attention, taking cruel advantage of Papa’s shopping challenged self, or having some fun at his expense. Regardless, they were wrong for letting the poor man purchase a funeral spray for his Sweet Thang. We’re talking a nice-sized plastic spray meant to sit atop a casket or gravestone, the kind that comes with its own lovely base of green foam. Are you picking up what I’m putting down?

If you see Mama, don’t tell her it’s the thought that counts. We tried. She may have cut him some slack for those good intentions, too– if he weren’t a repeat offender. Yes, it’s hard to believe but Papa has made the same mistake for two years running and for two years straight Mama has toted the flowers to church and put them on the communion table, the one with the engraved “This Do in Remembrance of Me” line. The rest of us are hoping that’s just a funny little coincidence.

Poor Papa, he should’ve asked one of us girls for help, like he does my middle sister at Christmas time when he has her bring Mama in some snazzy outfits from the Big D. We could’ve saved him a ton of grief. (Yeah, and I wasn’t even reaching for that pun.)

The only thing I can do now is try and keep him out of deeper trouble. Listen up, guys, this tip could save the rest of you some shopping drama, too. I found a new fragrance online called Funeral Home, designed with those very scents in mind.

Buyers beware. Unless I miss my guess, your honey will wear it over her dead body…or yours.

Hugs, Shellie