Just then, dad came rushing out of his office. ‘Jane, I need some help in the embalming room. Give me a hand.’ You’re probably wondering what my dad is talking about. Why on earth would an ordinary family have an embalming room? Is my dad some kind of sicko freak? Or does he practice ancient rituals on family members? Well, you’d be wrong on both counts. My dad runs the family funeral business. Our family has been dealing in death for the past fifty years. We live above the funeral parlour. It’s a great place to live, but none of my mates want to hang out at my place. They seem spooked by the idea of hanging out in my bedroom when there are dead bodies in the fridge on the floor below. No … not in our family fridge, of course. The bodies are in the refrigerated cabinet next to the autopsy lab, each one in separate drawers. They’re refrigerated to help preserve them until they can be embalmed for viewing by the family of the person who has passed away. Passed away’ is the polite way of saying ‘died’… A unique and humourous look at death and afterwards!
樂天KOBO
