I grew up in a small town where it was customary to honk your horn when driving by a wedding party gathering outside of a church. It was supposed to be a gesture of good luck, of solidarity; a way of celebrating with the newly married couple. The bride and groom and respective friends and family members would always wave when honked at, looking beyond excited and happy that someone wanted to share their special day with them.
Imagine my glee when we drove by a Catholic church yesterday on the way to taking baby boy to the zoo. I saw a group of finely dressed people as we approached the church, and the small-town girl in me bubbled to the surface, so I asked the Hubs to lay on the horn to congratulate the happy couple. I told him to keep honking 'til we passed the church - after all, I wanted the couple to know we were happy for them! As we inched closer to the church, though, I noticed that people weren't waving. In fact, everyone looked rather...well, melancholy.
It wasn't until a moment after the honking stopped and we were a good 50 feet past the church that I realized we were honking at a funeral party.