(My dear grandfather has died quietly in his sleep of old age. We are hosting a wake for a whole week in my grandparents’ home, hosted by my grandmother. Local custom states that we have an open casket in the living room, which was a bit unnerving at first, but we get used to it. Despite protests from family members, my grandmother insists on being an impeccable host, cooking and serving drinks and snacks to my many, MANY aunts, uncles, cousins, and over a dozen great-grandchildren. I have just been served a homemade local dessert — Ube Roll — as I am chatting with my cousins.)
Me: *takes a bite* “Hmm. I think something is off with this roll.”
Cousin #1: “Yeah, it’s hard as a rock!”
Cousin #2: “I think she might have left it out too long and it’s gone stale.”
Cousin #3: “And it’s really heavy! Did she actually make it with rocks?”
Me: “I can’t eat this.”
(The dessert really is bad; it is basically a paperweight.)
Cousin #1: “Me, neither.”
(We all look around at the many relatives struggling with their “rock cakes.” A few have discretely tried to leave the room with their dessert to “eat it outside,” but Grandmother is keeping a vigil on everyone. Disposal is going to be tricky.)
Cousin #1: “Poor [Grandmother]. She’s been through enough without spending the next few weeks finding half-eaten stale ube roll wedged behind cupboards and hidden in drawers all around the house.”
Cousin #2: “Wait a minute. [Grandmother] served all the great-grandkids first, and they all had empty plates when they ran outside to play. They couldn’t have eaten them, could they? They must have stashed them.”
Me: “But where? I can’t see where.”
(We look around for a while to see if we can find any cleverly-hidden half-eaten cakes but to no avail.)
Cousin #1: “Where could the little idiots have put them? There’s no way they ate them!”
Cousin #3: “Unless…”
(All of us look over towards the open coffin.)
Me: “Oh, no…”
(We slowly approach Grandfather with trepidation. Being the closest, I am silently volunteered to “pay my respects” one more time. I bend down and check the lower half of the coffin, which is closed. I turn back towards my cousins.)
Me: “Well, let’s just say that if Grandfather is accidentally buried alive, he won’t go hungry for a while…”
Cousin #1: “You mean those little b*****ds stuffed their cakes into poor Grandfather’s coffin?!”
Cousin #2: “No wonder all the kids wanted to pay their respects to Grandfather for so long! I was surprised that kids that young would be so thoughtful!”
(Luckily, we were able to remove the evidence without Grandmother noticing. One of us took her upstairs to “reminisce” while the rest of us collected the alarmingly heavy cakes from all the relatives and threw them out without her noticing. Wouldn’t have wanted to see what would have happened had the stash been discovered later on by poor Grandmother!)
