Karen demands my front row seats at my grandma's funeral because she's more related to her.

Here's what happened. Subscribe to Am I the Jerk on YouTube and hit the bell for notifications.

I remember this super vividly. Lots of tears were shed this day, as my family had lost our matriarch.

My great-grandmother of 104. The family

was torn to shreds last weekend, so nonsense like this wasn't expected. A bit of backstory. My

dad's family is full of many different ethnic groups. My aunts and uncles live all over the world,

so they've married accordingly.

However, this entitled mother and entitled kid, about in their mid-40s and late tens, respectively,

figured their emotions were more important than that of my own.

I've always been close to my grandparents on my dad's side, and that hasn't changed,

even when my mom, 52, and dad 61, divorced,

and I moved to Texas. The setting of this story is in my hometown, Wichita, Kansas. We've gone

through a ton of losses since I was little. My great-grandmother, as of late, her daughter,

my dad's mother, back in February of 2017, and my gramps, who I wasn't

old enough to remember.

I've had my fair share of funerals, and if it wasn't seen as disrespectful, I would much

rather mourn in secret.

Yet every funeral I've gone to, my father has always saved me a seat in the front pews

near him, so that I'm not

lost in the seat that is my dad's side of the family. Mostly, also, since I usually call myself

a soldier, when he breaks down, it helps that I'm there to comfort him. The last funeral, his

moms, was the worst of these. He didn't even want to go back to his resident state, but instead wanted

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