Red nail polish remembrance

For the funeral tomorrow, I painted my fingernails bright red. It might seem like an odd choice for a funeral, but I'm doing it in memory of my grandpa. When he was younger, he and his brothers made some sort of bet. The losers had to paint their fingernails red. Of course it was a Saturday, so the next morning involved going to church. Somehow Grandpa was the only one of them to actually go through with it. So there he was at church with bright red fingernails in 1930s Iowa. My grandmother happened to be sitting in the balcony of the church, looking down at the congregation below. She saw the bright red fingernails and thought that was odd and funny. She noted who it was and didn't forget it. And that's how my grandparents met.

So on Monday, I'll be sitting in a different church in early 21st century Iowa with red fingernails so Grandpa can find me from heaven. :)