When my grandfather died this summer, there wasn’t much left in the way of an estate. But a couple of months after we laid him to rest in Arlington, my mother sent me a card with a check inside. This is from your Grandfather.
I haven’t been able to figure out what to do with that money, and so have been holding onto it ever since. It wasn’t enough for something wild and extravagant, like a much needed vacation (and anyway, wild and extravagant isn’t really fitting, considering the source of the funds), but, conversely, it was too large a sum to just blow mindlessly on assorted and miscellaneous sundries (like, say, my usual rounds of ecstasy and whores. You know how I do.). In my gut I felt it should go toward something tangible and substantial, a thing with some longevity built into it.
So last week I went out and bought this:
Insane Pug Not Included.
It’s mahogany with a stainless steel top, sturdy as the last little pig’s house. And, obviously, something I’m sure to make use of every day for years and years to come.
I think Grandpa would have approved.
