A story of funerals and Race Car Drivers and a meeting of the minds

Today I was driving down the road with my kids. I was having a bad day. I was not in a good mood. My daughter exclaimed:

"Look mommy, a funeral!"

A funeral?
I look around for a hearse or a coffin or mourners in black or a grim reaper. I see none. All I see is a Taco Bell, a Bank, and a Walmart parking lot, in which a Ferris Wheel and other amusements have been assembled recently.

I start to laugh. I laugh hysterically. I laugh so hard my stomach hurts.

Daughter: "Mommy? Why are you laughing? Mommy? Mommy? Mommy? Why are you laughing?"
Me: "Honey, a funeral is what you do when someone dies. A CARNIVAL is where they have ferris wheels and amusements."
Daughter: "They have ferris wheels when people die at funerals?"

This makes me laugh even more. It brings back a memory from college. It was my first semester of my freshman year. That was the one semester I was a "Woman's Studies" major. I gave that subject up when I realized feminists don't shave their legs and don't go to frat parties to meet hot frat boys. I guess you can call that the year the feminists disowned me.

Anyway, I'm sitting in the last day of my Women's Studies class. Our professor is talking about SOMETHING...Could be anything...Iwas too busy thinking what I was going to wear to the big fraternity party that night. My attention drifts in just long enough to hear the professor (a militant lesbian, who seemed to think I was the anti-Christ) say:

"Visit us in the women's center. There are a lot of race car drivers there, and they'd be pleased to meet with you."

This made me laugh aloud. A lot of race car drivers? Why is that, I'm thinking to myself. Maybe this Women's Studies crap is not so bad after all...They have their own resident race car drivers.

The entire class is staring at me...
coldly...
disapprovingly...
angrily....

It was not until after class that I realized...
There were no race car drivers in the women's center, only RAPE SURVIVORS.