On death

A three-way conversation between Mum, Greg and I on the topic of death:

"Oh yea," I recalled, "you want to be incinerated and then have your ashes strewn in the sea, right?"

"Incinerated?" Mum balked.

"Yea, like I get a metal pail and burn you there right? Save money."

"The fire won't be strong enough!" she protested. "What if there's an arm or a head left-over?"

"So you want your entire body thrown into the sea just like that?" I smirked.

"No la... bring me to the church and cremate me properly. They have some sort of a casket service."

"Such a waste of money! Caskets cost a few thousand dollars, and then you burn it right up."

"Get a cheap one," Mum shrugged.

"You can throw me straight into the fire, I won't mind. In fact I'd prefer that." I said.

"Cannot la," Greg suddenly chimed in. "At least wrap in newspaper."

"No!" Mum said, horrified. "You'll get ink all over. Then what a waste of the make-up!"

Insert a short, contemplative silence.

"Actually, no need to put make-up on me," Mum said thoughtfully.

"What, you don't want your favourite purple eyeliner?"

"No need, my eyes will be closed anyway."

"Hm. I want a push-up bra and a girdle. Just push and squeeze whatever there is available."

Mum laughed. "Wear tight clothes. Sexy clothes."

"Mind you shave my legs!"

"Don't," Greg snorted. "Leave the hair, it'll help burn faster."

"Shave armpits then."

Mum concluded with arguably the best line of the night, "Aiyah, when you're dead you won't be spreading your arms anymore!"