Mom: When I die, I want to die like my great-grandmother — sitting in a rocking chair.
Me: You don’t own a rocking chair.
Mom: Yeah, well.
Tim: Ratterman’s funeral home has a twelve thousand dollar coffin. Twelve thousand!
Me: Is it inlaid with gold?
Tim: I don’t know, but that’s ridiculous
Me: When we get old, we should plan out our funeral and burial stuff before we die.
Me: You want a $12,000 urn, or is a Ralph’s coffee can okay?
Tim: A Ralph’s coffee can. You and Jer can go buy it.