I programmed the anniversary of everyone's deaths in my phone to come up on my calendar yearly so I can make sure that masses would be said for our beloved dead and I'm working on a master list of where everyone's buried so that no one will be forgotten as best as I can. Still, my mother was being difficult because it's tax season (she's an accountant) and she's freaking about her brother and has to make a little dig that my nephew won't be taught prayers. My sister and I are doing our best at the cemetery to keep him from climbing on headstones (he's two) and I was irritated enough to want to stick it back to my mom as I'm stressed too. So I managed to corral my nephew back to my grandparents' headstone. I wanted to try to get him to make the sign of the cross but he wouldn't stand still long enough. I thought for a moment about what I could get a two year old to do to honor our beloved dead (I'm a nanny, damnit) so finally I had the brainstorm to kiss my hand and then put my hand to the headstone and he repeated. After a smug look to my mom I said, "C'mon, kid, we're gonna go get pizza."
Fuck March, man.
