I have some pretty cool peeps up in heaven.
And I can’t help but envision that whenever I press the publish post button on my blog, my long-gone grandfather elbowing my also-gone grandmother and demanding once again to know what the hell is going on down here.
And every so often or after drinking heavily, I fancy myself overhearing a little grandparents-after-death-dialogue going on up there and it goes a little something like this:
“What the hell is she doing now?” My grandfather demands.
My grandmother rolls over (but only half way) and says “It’s a douche post dear”
“A douche post?” Whatever is left of his bushy bushy eyebrows crinkle together in confusion
“What the hell is a douche post I don’t remember any newspaper by that name?”
“Oh go back to your dirt nap dear. Leave her alone. She’s having fun”
My grandmother rocks the grave yo.
A disgruntled harrumph sound escapes from my grandfather's remains “She wasn’t raised like this. This has to be your side of the family”
“OMG, you are such a bone in the mud” (Is my EZ Pass to hell ready for pick up?) “Now for The Big Guy’s sake, please stop rolling, you’re disturbing my peace”
“That husband of hers needs to take her in hand. Is this the kind of thing she is teaching her son to read about…..douches?”
“Please stop saying douches dear. It doesn’t look good on you”
“I’m a damned corpse for chrissake! Nothing looks good on me! Can’t He do something?”
Eternally patient, my grandmother explains “He’s intervened enough. Plagues, pestilence, locusts…Lady Gaga…she obviously doesn’t want to be stopped and you know how our granddaughter is when she sets her mind to something. And besides, I personally liked the douche post and I know that I saw you smirking at that cute angry turkey one.”
“Well that one was funny... and obviously from my side of the family” He pointed out “But don’t expect me to die again laughing at this one. Douches..... What’s next?”
“Yeast infections, I’d imagine” she smiled angelically “Now please lie down and be still, I’m trying to rest”
Reluctantly he crosses his arms and gives my grandmother the whatever-after life-look before going back to R.I.P. position.
Well this is how it plays in my head anyway.
It makes me smile to believe it could possibly be true.
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