My mother is a major tightwad. Especially when it comes to things that are death and burial-related. It’s all a rip-off as far as she’s concerned. Thus we had this conversation a while ago (I swear this is absolutely true).
Mom: “When I die I want to be buried in a plain plywood box.”
Me: “I’m pretty sure they don’t sell those at the mortuary.”
Mom: “well, then you can just make one.”
Me: “so I’m supposed to go straight from your deathbed to Home Depot to pick up some wood to make you a coffin? Not only do I not know how to build coffins, I don’t think I’ll really be in the mood.”
Mom: (after some thought) “I could make one now!”
Me: “And where are you going to keep this casket? You live in a one bedroom apartment.”
Mom: “You could keep it at your house!”
Mom: (voice is starting to get very excited) “I’ll add some temporary shelves and we’ll just say it’s a bookcase! You can add the lid later!”
Mom: “And did I mention that I don’t want to be buried in a cemetery?”
Me: “I am not burying you in my backyard so don’t even ask.”
The woman is as hearty as can be so we’re not anticipating death for at least twenty or thirty years. I’m guessing we’ll have plenty of time to mull her plans over.