My uncle was killed by a drunk driver and his body was delivered home by train across two states in the hot, summer sun. The visitation was about a week and a half after he died so he did not smell all that great.
I walked up to see his body and my cousins (ages 4 and 5) decided to come with me. I stood there with them for a while when one of the children started to frantically pull on my sleeve. I leaned over to their level expecting to have to answer a tough question. He looked at me and very seriously pronounced that Uncle Ted smelled horrible.
After a minute or two of being at their level with the casket, I noticed they were right. I started giggling and led the children back up the aisle while covering my face like I was crying. It was too late and the three of us was outright laughing before we left the building. I still have relatives that glare at me at family reunions.