(I'm sorry... random thought coming your way)
Over this winter break, my great aunt, who is 92 years old (and is hard of hearing), stayed with us. My mom, great aunt, and I all crammed into the back seat on the way to christmas service.
Me: *whispering* Mom! Aunt Bea's breath smells.
Mom: Do you know what it is?
Me: I dunno... something she ate?
Mom: It's the smell of death.
I know... that's horrible. And unfunny. I'm sorry. (I laughed, though)
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"Do you not understand?" -Jesus