A few years ago, my Grampa passed away. I'd never been to an Italian funeral before and it surprised me to know that after the burial, there was a reception where everyone gathered to eat, drink and be Italian. Someone suggested I should bring my camera to take pictures, which I thought was a little weird but I brought it anyway. I figured there would be a lot of family there I hadn't seen in a while or ever and I could get some shots of all of them. Well, you know how they say everything happens for a reason? There was a reason I was at that funeral with my camera and it had nothing to do with taking pics of my family.
So there I was, sitting next to my middle brother and we both notice the painting on the opposite end of the reception hall. It's an old painting of a woman with her boob hanging out of her robe. My bro looks at me, I look at him and with a mischievous nod of understanding we make our way across the hall to the painting.
"Okay, be quick," he said. "On the count of three."
1...2...3!!!
I lifted my camera as my brother turned his face up towards the exposed boob in the painting as if he were going to put it in his mouth. My flash goes off and now we are the center of attention. I've never seen my dad move so fast in my life and if you think that parents don't smack you on the back of your head after you're an adult, you are mistaken. But my dad wanted to laugh, I could see it in his face. My brother and I never had another synced thought after that day and it's as well we didn't, there was never another opportunity for such an awesome event to take place.
I'm hoping that God has a sense of humor, because I'm sure it was wrong on a religious level to do something so un-Catholic at a funeral - even if it was funny. It's not like we were in a church, it was at a banquet hall at a funeral home.
And without further ado ... the photo:
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