You're welcome, Earth.
My favorite Aunt Pat moment came just over 10 years ago; my Grandma May had died at age 95 and we were up for her funeral. I stayed the night in the house she had lived for most of her life, the last 60 of which had been with my aunts Pat and Eileen (don't ask). The morning of her funeral, Aunt Pat stuck her head into my room:
Aunt Pat: You want some breakfast?And just like that she walked back through the door, leaving me howling with laughter.
Me: Sure, that'd be great.
Aunt Pat: How about some scrambled eggs?
Me: Oh yeah, definitely.
Aunt Pat: With some bacon?
Me: I love bacon!
Aunt Pat: You want some toast?
Me: Yeah.
Aunt Pat: White, or Jewish rye?
Me: Jewish rye.
Aunt Pat: So it's scrambled eggs, bacon, and Jewish rye toast?
Me: Sounds great.
Aunt Pat: It does. Make it your goddam self, I'm in mourning.
It's the same thing my mother would have done, or myself. And it still cracks me up.
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