On a quiet Sunday evening, Bert and Edna, a couple who had spent over five decades together, sat side by side on their porch swing. The sun dipped low in the sky, painting everything gold, while squirrels fought over a single Cheeto in the yard. Their tea had gone lukewarm, but neither of them seemed to notice. They were too comfortable — and too curious.

Edna suddenly broke the silence.

“Bert, have you ever thought about what’s still left on our bucket list?”

Bert raised an eyebrow. “Bucket list? Honey, I’m 87. At this point, the only thing on my list is ‘wake up and find my pants.’”

Edna laughed. “No, I’m serious. We’ve done a lot, but what about those dreams we never got around to?”

Bert tilted his head thoughtfully. “Well… I always wanted to try skydiving.”

Edna stared at him. “Skydiving? You nearly passed out tying your shoes last month.”

Bert shrugged. “If I pass out mid-air, just aim me at the neighbor’s garden. Always wanted to haunt his tomatoes.”

They both chuckled before Edna nodded. “Fine. You skydive, and I’ll cross something off my list too.”

Bert squinted. “Oh yeah? What secret wish have you been hiding?”

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Suddenly, Edna’s eyes gleamed like they hadn’t since 1965 — the same glint she had the day she “accidentally” flung Bert’s bowling trophy out the car window during a fight.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to confess,” she said, leaning closer.

Bert swallowed hard. “Go on…”

“You know how your favorite recliner always tilted to the left?”

“Sure,” said Bert. “I blamed the dog. Poor guy limped for weeks.”

Edna smirked. “That was me. After you spilled grape soda on my brand-new curtains in ’89, I jammed a spatula underneath the seat.”

Bert gasped. “You absolute menace!”

Edna chuckled. “And remember how the TV remote only played Hallmark movies for five years no matter what button you pressed?”

“You told me the thing was cursed!”

“I taped a penny over the battery terminal. You watched every cheesy Christmas love story from 2005 to 2010.”

Bert stared at her in disbelief. “Why would you do that?”

She sipped her tea calmly. “Because nothing says revenge like mistletoe kisses in slow motion.”

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After a long pause, Bert leaned back on the swing and smirked. “You know what, Edna? I’ve got something to admit too.”

“Oh?”

“Remember my fishing trips every Saturday for ten years?”

“You don’t even like fish.”

“Exactly. I was at the bowling alley. Won four trophies. They’re hidden behind the water heater in the basement.”

Edna blinked. “Wait… are you telling me I threw the fake one out the window?!”

They both burst into laughter.

The next week, Bert went skydiving. Edna bought a brand-new recliner. And now they go bowling together every Saturday — mostly to make sure the other doesn’t get up to more mischief.