My Relative Died. Where's the Food?
Been a busy week, this. A very distant relative died last Sunday. His death brought about some sadness, of course, but there wasn't much time for that as we had to convert a small handful of local family members into a crack team of mobile catering experts, pronto!
The death of a family member triggers the immediate need for at least one person to step up as the full time logistical commander, along with the loyal service of several hospitality and catering lieutenants who will, in turn, be in charge of a motley crew of busboys and mules comprised of the children and teenagers in the family.
In this particular situation, I served as both a mule and a mule manager. Motivating unpaid & unskilled children of various ages to set up and break down a self-catered event was challenging. They craftily disappeared like wood-elves. Upon being re-found and assigned a task they sagged at both the spine & knee and experienced instant retardation. When asked to carry a case of Sprite, for example, one would have thought by their reaction that I had asked them to construct a rocket and pilot it into the sun.
Fortunately, in the end we had only a small amount of complete defections from the crew: The two oldest snuck out, drove away and [I strongly suspect] got stoned. But even they returned in time to carry out the last two bags of garbage.
Great Uncle John, I hope you got to see how much everybody enjoyed the lasagna we made in your memory. Please keep an angel's eye on your lazy grandchildren and pothead nephews. Amen.