You know you're a loser when your Great-Aunt parties harder than you

It sounds weird, but I actually had a really good time going home for my grandpa's funeral. I was homesick. I got to spend Mother's Day with my mom and to see all kinds of relatives I haven't seen in years. One of my mom's cousins has four kids--two of which I've never even heard of, much less seen. My Uncle Marty flew in from Germany. Even though he drives us up the wall, it was nice to see him.
Sunday night, after the wake, we had a few family memebers over for pizza. We plowed into the pizza and beer, then sat around the kitchen talking. It was getting late, nearly 10:30, and I was thinking about going to put on my pajamas, when my great-aunt Sandy (my grandpa's little sister--she is, by general family consensus, our favorite relative) came over and put her hand on my head.
"How late is the casino open?"
So we called the casino, found out we had a few hours left, and I, my parents, my two great-aunts, their husbands, and a cousin or two piled into cars and drove over. I played nickel slots most of the night and came out two dollars ahead. My mom won thirty bucks at one point. Then for the last hour we were there, I sat next to my dad and played the poker machines. We both had a lot of fun and we're thinking of making this a family tradition.
The funeral the next morning was perfect. We thought hymns for my grandpa would be silly, so there wasn't going to be any music but a guy volunteered to sing and play guitar and it was beautiful. I read my blog entry and actually made people laugh (at a funeral!). Then I handed out lollies afterwards and I got a few requests for copies of what I read. I'm glad people liked it so much. The graveside service was short and then we all went to T-Bob's for fried chicken and beer. All in all, it was a fitting tribute to my Grandpa Hammer.