Sec: Write about an occasion where you laughed at the most inappropriate moment

The atmosphere was solemn.  It was the funeral service of the matriarch of our clan – my great grandmother who was a centenarian and had lived to a ripe old age of a hundred and two.  Everyone had turned up, from the youngest, at the age of three months, to the oldest, my grandfather,  the second oldest in our clan, who had experienced more than eighty summers.

My great grandmother lay in a white coffin, with very light make-up that made her less corpse-like.  Her leathery skin was speckled all over with age-spots and two heavy eye-bags.  Her frail petite frame was dressed in a black traditional Chinese costume and her very thin white hair was combed into a bun.  Everyone was mourning tearfully for her demise.

Mournful hymns filled the air.  A pianist was playing the keyboard at a corner.  Finally, it was time for the pastor, Reverend Lee, to give his sermon.   He was dressed in a pastor uniform, his very big plastic glasses reading verses from a very fat bible.  “Let’s turn to Psalms chapter 23,” he spoke ceremoniously.  Then, he just continued speaking monotonously like a broken radio.  Though he really looked dignified, there was something unusual about him.  He was seen scratching his scalp, time and again.  However, no one was really noticing.  The devout ones were really the bibles and some were whispering to one another.  For me, I was just amazed by the pastor who kept on clawing his scalp as if there were head lice all over.

Finally, I could not help it but turned and nudged my dad, speaking in muted tones, “Dad, why is that big-glasses pastor scratching his head?  Look, he is doing it again.”

“Maybe, he didn’t wash his hair,” my dad replied nonchalantly, “and focus on the sermon please.”

As Reverend Lee preached, he accidentally dropped his pen and speedily bent down to pick it up.  Then, the most hilarious thing happened.  His thick crop of black glossy hair just slipped off his head that was as bald as an egg.  He was wearing a wig!  Even though some were still weeping from the grief of losing my great-grandmother, I could not help it any further but to burst out laughing non-stop at the most inappropriate time.  “The pastor is wearing a wig.  Look!  He has no hair!”  I cried and  peals of laughter just burst forth like a volcano out of control and bounced off everywhere right at the funeral service.  This seemed to attract everyone’s attention and they turned to stare at the pastor.  Some stared in horror and others tried so hard to bite their lips and tried not to snigger.

However, the joke seemed to have fallen on me now.  My parents were glowering at me with hot coals in their eyes.  Instantly, I knew I was in trouble – great trouble.   All of a sudden, I felt a searing pain.  “Come over here!”  my father ordered and was twisting my right ear which had turned as red as a chilli padi.  “Ouch!” I cried and followed him to a side room where I had a dressing-down that I could never forget. 

The pastor continued his sermon – without his wig – of course.  Strangely though, he never attends our family funerals any more.  Too embarrassed, I guess.