I love bacon so much that when I smell it cooking, my eyes roll back in my head and I grin uncontrollably. It is no secret in my family that, for quite some time, I have nurtured an overwhelming passion for sizzling fat derived from the side of a pig. If I had a choice, I’d eat a plate of bacon with a side of more bacon for every meal, snack, and dessert. So when I heard this week that J&D Foods based in Seattle, Washington, has created a coffin wrapped in bacon, my plans for my eternal life suddenly changed for the better.
While the bacon hissed in the frying pan one morning this week, I poured my husband coffee and casually mentioned that I’d decided not to be cremated and sprinkled over the Flamingo Hotel in Las Vegas when I die. He raised his eyebrows. “Why?” he asked suspiciously, already knowing I had always been adamant that my lifeless body not take up a piece of land that could be used to help create an award-winning golf course one day. I opened the newspaper and pointed to the photo of the coffin painted with red and pink stripes to look like bacon.
“It comes with a bacon air freshener,” I added enthusiastically as I gazed longingly at the photo. “I wonder if I can order my coffin with two eggs, sunny-side up,” I mused as I walked to the stove and flipped the bacon.
My husband shook his head and lifted the Sports section over his eyes. “You know how much I love bacon,” I said as I slowly placed one salty strip of pork after another on a plate. I drummed my fingers on the counter while I waited for the bacon to cool. “I’d really like to leave this life in style,” I added as I picked up a piece of bacon, held it between my fingers like a cigarette, and took a tiny bite. “Did you know you can make roses out of bacon? Wouldn’t those be lovely on top of my coffin?” I took another bite of bacon and looked off in the distance. Maybe it was the smell of the bacon cooking or the thought of basking in the aroma of bacon for all eternity, but my imagination had officially gone wild.
My husband slowly lowered his newspaper and stared at me like he does every time he thinks I’m ready for the loony-bin. “I am not putting you in a bacon coffin and that is that!” he announced.
And so that was that. I sighed as I turned to stand once again in front of the plate of bacon on the counter. As tempting as the idea was, I knew I was not going to spend my life in eternity smelling like I had taken a bath in bacon grease. “Hey, is that bacon done over there?” my husband asked. Wordlessly, I crammed six pieces of bacon in my bra before I placed the plate in front of him.
Hey, don’t judge. I needed to save something good for the after-life.
By Vicky DeCoster – All Rights Reserved