“Sweetheart, what did you bury in the garden?” She asked as she took a sip of her coffee.
“Huh...?” He looked up from his paper and squinted at his wife over his glasses.
“What did you bury in the garden last night?” She repeated.
“Oh, Nothing to worry yourself about dear,” he replied
“Oh good. But why did it have to happen at two in the morning?”
He folded his paper and placed it by his half-eaten breakfast plate with a sigh. “Dear, how long have we been married?”
“Oh....about 60 years I think.”
“Exactly.” He said, “After all those years can’t you just trust me?”
“Honey, all those years is exactly why I know not to trust you.” She said with a sweet smile and a wink.
He smiled at his sweet wife. Just as lovely now as the day he married her. Smart, classy, and not afraid of anything.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t disturb anything when I buried him.” The old man finally said with a laugh.
“Oh, good.” She replied. “I was worried you hurt my roses.”
“No. If anything Chester will provide good fertilizer for the roses.” He smiled.
“Oh, it was Chester? No wonder it seems more peaceful here this morning. Yes, he will be good for the roses. What happened?”
“He used some very unpleasant language when telling me about the leaves from our apple tree falling on his yard, again. As if I have control of where the wind blows the leaves.” He snorted. "I guess I got tired of his sass."
“Oh, well, problem solved then.” She replied.
He nodded and picked up his newspaper, but noticed the thoughtful expression on his wife's face.
“What are you thinking, love?”
“Hmmm...?” She blinked, “Oh, I was just thinking I should send a condolence card to Chester’s wife.”
“Well, maybe wait till she knows he’s missing.”
“Oh, of course silly,” she said with a laugh, “this is not my first time.”
“Of course not.” He smiled. They settled into a comfortable silence. Feeling the morning sun coming through the window. “The garden is beautiful isn’t it?” The old woman mused to her husband.
He followed her peaceful gaze out the window to the award-winning roses gracing the garden. “Yes, it is. It is absolutely lovely.”