Never Tap the Mower Man...

It was the biggest cemetery I'd ever been in ... Miles and miles of headstones. The stone for Mark Twain was clearly marked -- but none of the other paths. I had a map, but even on the best of days I'm not a great map-reader.

And this was a terrible, awful, no good, very bad day. I was there to say goodbye to a dear friend, whose funeral I had been unable to attend two months before. And I had two wired kids in my back seat.

Finally, I got out and spotted a white-haired gentleman mowing a section of lawn. His mower was going at quite a clip, so I kept yelling and running after him. Finally, with one big breath I yelled over the mower again, then reached out and touched his shoulder.

I'd never seen someone jump out of his skin like that before. He whirled and scowled at me. "Don't EVER do that AGAIN!"

I took one look at his angry face, and burst into tears. Immediately the anger evaporated, and concern took its place. "What's WRONG?" he pleaded.

*sniff* "I can't find my friend. I've looked and looked, and can't see where they put him!"

Long story short, the man drove me to the right place, so we could put our flowers on Father Roger's grave. And he apologized the whole way.

Lesson learned: Never grab the mower guy in the cemetery.