Honk.

We were all bowing our heads and closing our eyes (well, most of us) while Bryan was saying the dedicatory prayer at the graveside service. He was about half way through when all of the sudden we heard a car horn honk. It was sort of odd that it was just one honk, and not a series of honks like from a car alarm.

My dad came up to me after the service. He told me that he had taken Angus to sit in Grandpa Max's truck (Bryan and his mom drove in it) to get out of the wind. It was incredibly windy at the cemetery that day. Apparently Angus was playing with the steering wheel and hit it hard enough to make it honk. Need less to say, they exited the truck immediately. It was just like Angus to be loud, and just like a child of mine to be irreverent.

We all got a good chuckle out of it, and agreed that Max probably did too.