This weekend, Tom actually watched the Clemson football game with me. I blame the loss on his viewing.
Anyway, this is some commentary from my husband. Talk about loss…
Tom-When I die, I want the funeral to be like a football game. There will be beer and a half time. On one side there would be people who like me, and the other side people who hate me. There would be arguments of which side is right. There would be a ref that came in and make a call that hurts the side that is winning for no reason.”
Tom-Who do you think would be my sponsors?
Tom-Nah it would probably be Iams.
Tom-I would think Jeep, but we would need to time travel to have it be the 1999 Jeep not today’s Jeep.
Tom- And you can do the Clemson chant 1234 1234 T-O-M-I-S-D-E-A-D.
Me-(my jaw on the floor)
The thing with being married to an infantryman is that they have no problem talking and poking fun at their mortality.
So yes this conversation happened, and actually continued with talks about John Stamos and treasure maps at the funeral. Yes part of my duties as the widow is to get Uncle Jesse at Tom’s funeral.
Also I want to note that my husband must really love me because he is making his funeral plans around my love for football since he hates the sport.
Yes this is morbid, but I take the sweet moments where I can get them.