I was checking with my class to see who was available to sing in the school choir at the First Holy Communion mass next Saturday week. Yesterday, numbers were very low, so I gave a little talk about "community spirit", "helping each other out" and "responsibility".
Panic. Can't have a choir without singers.
So I gave a BIG lecture about having to be there, unless you had a very valid excuse.
I checked again today. An increase in participiants, but there were still the usual suspects who didn't volunteer.
"And why can't you sing in the choir on Saturday week?", I asked Ó.
"Ehh. I have to.....go to a funeral", he stammered out.
"Really," I said, with raised eyebrow. "Whose funeral is it?"
"Em. It's my Dad's nephew's....cousin, once removed."
He obviously didn't want to tempt fate by naming someone too closely related!
"Interesting. How soon do we bury someone in Ireland, after their death?"
"Correct. So how do you know that your Dad's nephew's second cousin once removed is going to die next Thursday???"
"I'll be at the choir, Miss".
"You're dead right, you will!"