“Paul, would you prefer a burial or a cremation?”, Shirley asked her husband.

“A what? I’d prefer not to have either, to be honest”, he said.

“Now, Paul, everyone dies. A cremation would be cheaper, you know”, she told him.

“Yea? Yea. That way you could dance on my grave”.

“What? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It leaves you more money. Some old con artist will end up with it”.

Shirley started laughing. That irritated Paul more than the thought he might have to die someday.

“What’s so funny?”, he asked her.

“Paul, after 40 years with you I don’t want another man”, she replied sweetly.

What was that supposed to mean? Did she love him so much that another man couldn’t take his place or that he was such a pain in the ass that she wouldn’t bother with it again? Paul didn’t really want to know.

“Yea, you say that now but, you know, you get certain, umm, you know, urges”, he told her.

Shirley laughed even harder.

“Paul, I haven’t had an urge like that for twenty years, maybe more.”

That mollified Paul for a moment then mortified him.

“Well, okay, but you might get lonely enough”.

“Are you joking? All four kids are living at home with their spouses and their kids. I can’t get a moments quiet around here. Jeez, Paul, all I asked is if you wanted a burial or a cremation, not that it’ll matter to you then”.

“Oh. Yea, I won’t care. Just don’t be dancing on my grave”.