An elderly couple, Bert and Edna, are sitting on the porch swing
Fifty-five years of marriage. No surprises left.
Or so Bert thought.
Edna sighed. “We should talk about our bucket lists.”
Bert snorted. “At 87? My list is ‘wake up’ and ‘find my pants.’”
“I’m serious,” she said. “Before we go… we should each do one thing we’ve always wanted.”
Bert thought for a moment. “Fine. I’ve always wanted to go skydiving.”
Edna stared at him. “Bert, you get dizzy checking the mailbox.”
He shrugged. “Then I’ll finally go out doing something impressive.”
A beat.
“Your turn,” he said. “What’s yours?”
Edna set her cup down.
“I want to finally tell you something I’ve kept for 55 years.”
Bert froze.
“…That sounds expensive.”
Edna didn’t smile.
“One of our children… isn’t yours.”
Silence.
The swing stopped.
“…Which one?” Bert whispered.
Edna took a sip of tea.
“The one who still visits.”
Long pause.
Bert blinked.
“…We have three kids.”
Edna nodded.
“Exactly.”
