You are NOT going to that Funeral!

Well, it is a rare thing for A to put her foot down, but when she does, she will not be budged. Following a delightful Thanksgiving, both picturesque and tasty, somehow A caught the stomach flu.

The original plan for the Saturday following Thanksgiving looked something like this:
* In the morning, travel up the canyon to go Christmas Tree hunting
* Travel north to attend a good friend's family funeral
* Join B&B at a musical theater performance of "Into the Woods," followed by dinner

The weather report on Friday morning looked a bit snowy by Saturday, so we shifted gears and cut the tree Friday morning, and it was a good thing. By Friday evening, A was sleeping on the bathroom floor to avoid the 20 foot journey back and forth to bed. C, who decided to sip A's ginger ale found himself in a similar predicament by Saturday afternoon. It went something like this:
C: I am going to the funeral.
A: Are you sure you feel up to it?
C: {Silence}
A: Are you feeling okay?
C: {Sick in the bathroom}
A: You are NOT going to that funeral!
C: Yes I am!
A: I rarely put my foot down, but this time I am. You are not going!
C: You can't make me!
A: Yes I can!!!!

Needless to say, A won . . . this time.