Caption This

It was late in the day and Nicki had just bought me some coffee from Dunkin’s Donuts to pacify the hardships of a day of funerals.  She brought Jeremiah into the funeral home where my dad (on the left), my grandfather (in the middle) and me were all in the office tying off the loose ends of the day.

Nicki gave Jeremiah to my grandfather and I gave my cell phone camera to Nicki so that she could capture four generations of Wildes.

As you know, our business is a family business that’s spanned six generations.  Jeremiah — if he chooses — would become the seventh generation.

My grandfather is speaking some words to Jeremiah.  Let’s imagine that those words are intended to manipulate Jeremiah at a young age to become a funeral director.  What could he possibly be saying?

Here’s a couple of my attempts:

“If you become a funeral director, I’ll buy you a diamond studded pacifier.”

“The morgue is beckoning.  Answer the call.”

“You like the Mercedes I drive?  I’ll see if they can’t make one for an infant.”

“I’ll buy you all the toys you want, if you’ll scribble on this contract that obligates you to fulfill your generational duty.”

“Dead people are much less scary than your father.”

“There’s nothing like hide-and-go seek in a casket room.”

“Your last name is synonymous with ‘funeral director.  You have no choice.’”

“I will buy you a breast that produces ice cream.”

Your turn … CAPTION THIS.