On a calm Sunday evening, Bert and Edna, an elderly couple, sit together on their porch swing. They’ve shared fifty-five years of marriage, and tonight, they sip lukewarm tea while watching squirrels battle over a Cheeto in the yard. The sun sets gently behind them as birds sing in the trees.
Edna lets out a soft sigh. “Bert,” she says, “let’s talk about our bucket lists.”
Bert raises an eyebrow. “Bucket lists? Edna, I’m 87. My last bucket list item is ‘Wake up tomorrow and remember where I put my pants.’”
Edna laughs. “I’m serious! We should each do one thing we’ve always wanted to do before we go.”
Bert thinks for a moment. “All right, all right. I’ve always wanted to go skydiving.”
Edna’s eyes widen. “Skydiving? Bert, you fainted for three minutes the last time you bent down to tie your shoe.”
Bert shrugs. “Well, if I pass out midair, just aim me for the neighbor’s garden. I’ve always wanted to haunt him anyway.”
Edna chuckles. “Okay, you go skydiving. I’ll cross something off my list, too.”
Bert narrows his eyes. “And what’s that?”
Edna’s eyes twinkle mischievously—just like they did back in 1965 when she ‘accidentally’ dropped Bert’s bowling trophy out the car window during an argument. “Bert, I’ve always wanted to confess something.”
Bert swallows. “What is it?”
Edna leans in closer, whispering, “Remember how your favorite recliner always leaned to the left for twenty years?”
Bert nods. “Yeah, I blamed the dog. Poor thing limped for weeks.”
Edna grins. “Well, it wasn’t the dog. After you spilled grape soda on my new curtains in 1989, I jammed a spatula in the bottom of the chair.”
Bert gasps. “You monster!”
Edna chuckles. “And remember how the remote would always switch to the Hallmark channel no matter what?”
Bert blinks. “You said it was haunted!”
Edna smiles. “Nope. I stuck a penny inside the battery compartment. For five years, you never missed a Christmas romance.”
Bert’s jaw drops. “Why would you do that?”
Edna sips her tea calmly. “Because nothing says revenge like endless snowball fights and mistletoe, sweetheart.”
Bert sits in stunned silence before breaking into a grin. “Well, Edna, I have a confession, too.”
Edna raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”
Bert leans back in the swing. “Remember my Saturday ‘fishing trips’ for ten years?”
Edna gives him a look. “Bert, you don’t fish.”
“I know,” says Bert proudly. “I was bowling. I won four trophies. They’re hidden behind the water heater in the basement.”
Edna’s eyes widen. “You mean I threw a fake trophy out the window all those years ago?”
They both burst into laughter.
In the end, Edna bought a new recliner. Bert finally went skydiving. And on Saturdays, they bowled together—mostly to keep each other in check.
Nearly sixty years of marriage later, at the age of 85, they tragically died in a car accident and arrived at the Pearly Gates together. Because of Edna’s health-conscious habits, they’d been in great shape for years.
St. Peter greeted them warmly and led them to their heavenly home. It had everything: a gourmet kitchen, a Jacuzzi, a spacious bedroom, and even a pool table.
“Wow!” said Bert. “What’s the cost of all this?”
“Nothing,” said St. Peter. “This is heaven—everything is free.”
Then he took them to a championship golf course that changed every day to match the world’s best greens. Angels caddied for them, and they could play whenever they wanted.
“This is amazing!” Edna exclaimed. “But how much does it cost to play?”
“It’s free,” laughed St. Peter. “Heaven is here.”
Next was a five-star restaurant with an endless buffet of prime rib, lobster, Wagyu beef, and desserts beyond their dreams.
Bert still looked suspicious. “All right, but how much?”
“For the last time—free!” said St. Peter. “You’re in heaven!”
Bert hesitated. “But… are there any low-fat, low-cholesterol options?”
St. Peter chuckled. “Here, you don’t get sick or gain weight. Eat anything you like!”
Bert’s face flushed red. He clenched his fists and glared at Edna.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
He pointed at her and yelled, “THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT! If it hadn’t been for your paleo chicken and bran muffins, we’d have been here ten years ago!”
