Last night, Manoj and I were watching a sitcom, The Middle. In this episode, Mike has been given tickets to the Men's NCAA Final Four game. However, Frankie's great-uncle decides to kick the bucket at the grand age of 91 and the funeral is scheduled for the same day as the Final Four. Of course.
I turned to Manoj and said "Dude. If I die, you have my explicit permission to postpone my funeral for any sort of sporting events you desire."
After all, I am on ice anyway, just hanging out while I wait for my dirt nap to begin. Why should he miss the Superbowl? Right? Shoot me out of the t-shirt cannon... do the Wave in my honor..... I will not care.
Besides, if I die before Manoj, he should enjoy that sporting event to help him forget that his life means nothing now. Nothing! After all, the poor sap is going to be lost in his own home. Seriously and literally. He will be LOST without me. Someone will need to remind that we keep the milk in the refrigerator, the shoes in the shoe basket, the coats on the coat rack.
And I really fear for the car keys. When I die, they will not be long for this world, either.