On a calm Sunday evening, Bert and Edna, an elderly couple, are seated on the porch swing. They have been wed for fifty-five years. They are both drinking lukewarm tea while they watch squirrels in the yard battle for a Cheeto as the sun sets and the birds sing.
Edna sighs suddenly and says, “Bert, let’s discuss our bucket lists.”
Bert’s eyebrows go up. “Lists of buckets? I’m 87, Edna.
“Wake up tomorrow and remember where I put my pants” is the last item on my list. Edna laughs. “No, I’m not kidding.
Each of us should do something we’ve always wanted to do but haven’t had the opportunity to do before we leave. Bert pauses to reflect. “All right, all right.
Skydiving has always been a dream of mine. Edna’s eyes enlarge. “Skydiving?
Bert, you fainted for three minutes the last time you knelt down to tie your shoe. Bert gives a shrug. “Well, just let me land in the neighbor’s garden if I do fall in midair.
My goal has always been to haunt him. Edna nods and they laugh. “All right, all right.
You take a skydive. I’ll complete mine as well. Bert narrows his eyes.
“And what do you have?”
Edna’s eye suddenly sparkles mischievously, just like it did when she “accidentally” dropped Bert’s bowling trophy out the car window during a fight in 1965. “Bert, I’ve always wanted to tell you something.”
Bert swallows. “What do you confess?”
“You know how your favorite recliner always mysteriously leaned to the left for 20 years?” Edna whispers as she leans in closer.
Bert gives a nod. Yes, I did blame the dog. It hobbled for weeks, poor thing.
Edna grins. “Well, I did it. After you spilled grape soda on my brand-new curtains in 1989, I jammed a spatula in the bottom.
Bert lets out a gasp. “You are a monster!”
