No Respect

My second oldest daughter, now in college, accompanied me to the Three Rivers Festival in downtown Covington, Louisiana a few years back when she was eight years old. It was a small festival in a small town that closed one of the main streets for the event. We walked past the line of booths that offered a variety of local crafts and deliocacies from local restaurants. Nice affair. At the end of the strip, we passed a small cemetery, the Louisiana kind with many above ground tombs.

"So how do you want to be buried dad?", my daughter asked. "Well I'm dead, don't really care babe.", I honestly offered. Do you want to be above or below ground?" she asked, as only a Louisiana native would ask. "Really, I don't care, whatever you guys want at the time." I offered again. "How bout we burn you up?" she then asked. "I hate to sound like a broken record", I again seriously offered, "but I'm dead, whatever you guys want." The conversation was serious to me. I knew that I would someday die. That my family would, might hopefully would be upset. I wanted offer guidance while alive to assist them in that hour of need. So, I took advantage of her interest and expressed my true desires - to let them know I was cool with whatever they decided. "OK, so we'll burn you." she decided. "What do you want me to do with your ashes?" "What do YOU want to do with them?", I asked her this time. She though for a few moments then with a satisfied smile said, "I know what you want. I'll throw them on Madonna." I laughed out loud and said, "I don't think Madonna would like that very much. Do you?" Her face reflected serious thought for a moment and then she offered, "No. She'd probably brush you off, " then smiled really big and continued, "alive or dead".