A FUNNY STORY

I was returning from Florida today, bringing my father's ashes home in a small pewter urn. I had failed to put dad in a Ziploc Bag, in accordance with the TSA's new regulations for small containers.

As a consequence of the leaden blob in my carry-bag, I was selected for secondary screening, which is to say that they took dad out of my backpack.

TSA Screener: "What's in here? And why isn't this in a Ziploc Bag?"

Me: "My dad."

TSA: "Huh?"

Me: "My dad's ashes. Do you want me to open him up?"

TSA: "Um...no. No, that's okay."

TSA Supervisor: "What was in the container?"

TSA: "Um...his...um...father's ashes."

TSA Supervisor: "Have a great flight, sir."

Which begs the question: What happens when Mohammed goes through security with an urn, shaped like, say, a grenade?