“In case we die,” she said.
“You’re not going to die, Mom,” I replied.
“I’m sending you all our information — the will, access to the security box, directions to my secret stash of pretzels so mice don’t get them if we don’t come back — everything you will need.”
“Mom, just because this is called a ‘bucket list’ trip doesn’t mean you kick the bucket while there.”
She paused.
“Fine. I won’t send the pretzel information.”
My parents are taking a dream vacation to see Mount Everest. Visiting Nepal and Bhutan is the last item on their bucket list. It has seemed to make them feel the end is imminent — as if we are all players in some celestial board game and when the winning move is made, we all slide into a volcano. Kaboom.
Speaking of, I saw once that Chile offers bungee jumping into an active volcano. For the low cost of $14,000, you, too, can hurl your body out of a helicopter toward the explosive orange goo bubbling at a cool 1,292 degrees. At least with this bucket list adventure, I could appreciate getting the code to the security box. Certainly, it would warrant secret pretzel stash info.
But a Chilean death dive and a group trip with 40 other Americans to see the world’s tallest mountain while staying in four- and five-star hotels aren’t exactly the same thing. And despite the fact that the members of this group will park their bus somewhere along the base of the behemoth and hike upward of 20 feet or so, they aren’t exactly climbing Mount Everest, either. Though, undoubtedly, that’s the story many will tell.
The risks here are slim, and it’s interesting to watch folks as well-traveled as my parents get nervous. Perhaps I don’t relate because my bucket list is decidedly less adventurous these days. I, too, would like to “hike” Everest, but when I sit here and think about my list, the first thing that comes to mind is cheese curdles.
I went to college in the Midwest, and a number of my friends hailed from Wisconsin. For four years, I had to hear about how much they missed the deliciousness that is cheese curdles. Before I pass on to the afterlife, I need to experience this glory! Is that so wrong?
Also, using a Hula-Hoop. No matter how hard I gyrate, that stupid loop just falls to my feet within two seconds. How is it that every other child in the world can figure this out? I refuse to live out my whole life bested by a Hula-Hoop. The secrets must be learned! The motions must be mastered! In the same category, I’d like to add roundoffs and roller-skating.
A Mohawk is on the agenda. An old colleague of mine shaved her head for her 29th birthday. She believed that all people should shave their heads once before turning 30. The idea was to do something extreme, out of your comfort zone and ultimately liberating. I missed that deadline. But “Mohawk by 40” has a sweet ring to it.
I’d also like to follow my mom’s super-secret stash example. For years, she has sworn off pretzels because she loves them too much and feels they are her ideal-weight kryptonite. Swearing off a favorite food has always felt extreme to me, so I loved discovering that she still indulges from time to time. I like to think that in her bedroom, one of the air vents’ grates can easily be lifted. Hidden behind it, kept cool and dry by the pumped-in air, is a rolled-up brown paper bag, a few portion-sized bags of pretzels inside. It’s like a teenager hiding her weed, but in this case, it’s a 60-something woman hiding her carbs.
I need a secret gummy worm stash. And the exciting thing is that I can tick that off the bucket list today.
Perhaps it’s indicative of the varying seasons of our lives. I have young children, so my list has become filled with smaller wins that are more achievable. The risks are far more measured because, let’s be honest, the biggest item on the bucket list is just to be here for my kids.
Everest and volcano jumping can wait for now. On the plus side, I don’t have to give away the location of my secret gummy worm stash.
Katiedid Langrock is author of the book “Stop Farting in the Pyramids,” available at http://www.creators.com/books/stop-farting-in-the-pyramids. Like Katiedid Langrock on Facebook, at http://www.facebook.com/katiedidhumor.