Cemetery

This summer, when I came back from Bitola, my wife and I passed the Ohrid cemetery.
My wife asked me to go to her father's grave.
It was noon and it was very hot and light.
Because I have blue eyes my sun counts.
In the drawer of my car I look for some glasses and I saw the orange glasses of my son Matthew.
I took them, I placed on my eyes and while I was preparing to get out of the car, I said to my wife:
Is it a shame I put the orange glasses (I felt like a clown with them) to go through the Ohrid cemetery, still I think the cemetery is not a circus, and she turns to me and says:
Do not think someone will get you out of there.
Post scriptum: I very often analyze my behavior, so I connect this event with the words consideration, respect, joke, anecdote, truth, reality.