After she left, we were texting each other late one night, and she said she was still looking up a cemetery that we could record for the internet, because that would be fun to do with me.
Two sisters, paper, crayons, graves...
What could be better?
I told her we should start our own cemetery.
For some reason, I've always wanted to own one.
She shared with me that caretakers of small cemeteries are called Sextons.
And, if we did start our own, she would want that embroidered on her uniform.
I told her that I'd just have the word "sexy" on mine.
It's short for Sexton, and I'm pretty sure it means "little Sexton."
She said, "We'd be in the paper for sure! Who wouldn't want a sexy woman overseeing their remains into eternity? We could call it the "Sexy Sextons Cemetery, Ice crematorium and petting place. See, I added a concession stand and a place to bring your pet to stroke - or your girlfriend. We'll be the best in the country! You can sell knock offs of your shirt."
Then I thought for a moment, and my morals kicked in.
"No heavy petting though. We'll have to have scales to weigh the petters."
"Sorry, you're too heavy for our petting place!"
Then I fell asleep.
She's still texting me telling me how funny I am, and how I'm her favorite sister (among other things) while I'm snoring.
(She only said one of those, but who's gonna check my texts?)
Then she texts, "Goodnight".
And I wake up.
Not because I want to text, but because someone is vomiting.
Who hasn't vomited in the last week?
No one at my house.
*sigh*
So I'm helping the vomiter, thinking about becoming a Sexton, and I start to worry.
(Worrying is a past time of mine, F.Y.I. Especially when I can't sleep.)
So I pick up my phone, and text my sleeping sister.
"Do Sextons sext? Wouldn't what they do be considered sexting? I think we better reconsider this. I wouldn't want to be caught sexting, would you?"
Then I fell asleep.
But I haven't stop thinking about it.
What if someone asks us what we do at work?
"We sext."
Can you imagine?
What if they called us at work and asked what we were doing?
"We are sexting."
"We've been sexting all day!"
I'd never be able to live with myself.
Maybe I'll just get a job mowing lawns at the cemetery.
My sister can do rubbings...
there's got to be a better word for that.
"I'm a Sexton and I do rubbings. I'm busy right now, but maybe my sister "Sexy" can help you with rubbings..."
D'oh!
I'm going to have to call her.
I do think we should reconsider.
Maybe just open the ice crematorium instead.
