I was in the shower this afternoon when I was interrupted (of course I was - I'm a Mom, trying to take a shower, while my kids are home) by Calen.
"MOM. (rattles off 5 names of 4th grade girl classmates that I won't disclose) are having a funeral for Freddy at 4pm and I need to be there to help with the ceremony so I'm going to go outside and help them okay?"
"Wait. Who is Freddy and why is he having a funeral?!"
"Oh Freddy is a tadpole that Heidi caught in the river on Monday and he's been dead in a jar for a few days so we need to have a funeral. He like never was actually alive she found him dead but he really should have a funeral"
"A funeral for a tadpole."
"Yeah so can I go outside and help?"
"I mean...by all means...go be a part of Freddy's funeral."
And as I finish my shower contemplating what exactly a funeral for a tadpole would entail, I decide that I absolutely have to observe this, because nothing could go more perfectly ridiculous than a funeral for a tadpole operated by 4th graders.
After a solid hour of planning and grave digging in the back field (Calen was the official grave digger before any adults came along), the ceremony began. They buried Freddy in some sort of mummy wrap in the hole (dug further by one of the funeral operators' fathers), laid to rest with a special rock that said very beautifully: "RIP", and then covered in bright purple flowers no doubt hacked off recklessly from some unsuspecting neighbor's front garden. The "guests" then stood around the grave in a circle, each ceremoniously bowing to it and saying whatever nice things they had to say about Freddy the Always Dead Tadpole.
Rest in piece, Freddy.
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