Bucket List

‘Oh well,’ said Dina, looking out of the kitchen window as she loaded the breakfast dishes into the dishwasher. ‘I guess our Sunday walk is out of question now, what is it with Glasgow weather? It’s raining, hailing, snowing, windy and sunny all at once!’

‘Count your blessings,’ Billy said, as he licked the last crumb of bacon off his plate and stood up to clear the table. ‘We’ve had it lucky here, my girl,’ he said. ‘Look what’s happening to the poor people in Wales and other places in England, entire homes being washed away.’

‘True,’ she replied, ‘it’ll be nice to have a lazy Sunday indoors though. I think I’ll sort out my wardrobe, been meaning to do that for ages now. What are you going to do?’

‘I was actually thinking of making my Bucket List. Want to help?’ he asked her, getting together his notepad and pen.

‘That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever hear of William Stone,’ she mocked, ‘what on earth would you possibly put on it?’

Ignoring her, which he was getting very good at these days, he proceeded to list out in large writing…

1.     A Real Safari in southern Africa
2.      The Northern Lights
3.      Watch Wimbledon centre court
4.      Beat Alfie at darts
5.      Las Vegas with the boys

‘Go on, why don’t you try and get an OBE while you’re at it,’ she said from behind him, hardly containing her mirth.

‘Leave me alone, woman,’ Billy said, ‘Go and make your own list, or my number six is going to be “Run away from wife”.’

‘All I want Billy, is tea in bed every morning, the grass to be cut on time without me nagging, the children home every Christmas, and new windshield wipers. But that’s not glamorous enough to warrant a bucket list, is it?’

‘Seriously though Dina, is there nothing you want to do before we… you know… kick the bucket, so to speak?’

Sitting down next to her husband of fifty-three years, Dina chuckled softly and said, ‘Well, you know when you watch football on telly, and some boy scores a goal? He then runs and lands on his knees, and then sort of slides forward for a hundred yards almost? Now, how I’d love to do that. To run, to slide, to jump, to glide!’

‘You’re right, my love,’ Billy said, giving her a hug.’ It is indeed ridiculous to want more than we have at our age.’

‘I think I’m going to do what I’ve been meaning to do for months now.’

‘What’s that,’ Dina asked?

‘I’m going to write to the Met Department and ask them to stop naming these storms.’