As I write this, I’m sitting in an airport in Dallas, TX, making my return to northern Virginia and home. The past fee days have been spent mourning the loss of my great aunt, Gail Roork, with my family. One thing I’ve always noticed about funerals – at least, with my family – is that the great majority of time is spent not crying, but laughing. We celebrate the deceased’s life. And that’s what we’ve done in this case.
That being said, we are still sad, and seeing me catch a pie in the face would make just about anyone smile, I’m pretty sure.
Edited to correct horribly glaring spelling/grammar mistake in the second panel. Ugh.