A few days ago I discovered the will that my wife and I had written more than ten years ago (actually, a lawyer drafted it for us). There it was, tucked inside our home safe (with the secret combination R-15, L-45, R-35). I couldn't remember what would happen in the event of my own death, so I decided to read the will.
It's a rather short document (which may say a great deal about the significance of my life) and essentially states that if I die my wife gets everything. If she dies, I get everything. If we both die in some tragic malfunction (say, our microwave blows from heating up too many hot pockets, or we both die of heat exposure on a hike through Eagle Creek park) then all of our worldly goods go to our two children, to be divided equally, but held in trust by a cousin, who will, no doubt, be absolutely thrilled to death herself by the prospect of seeing our two urchins safely into adulthood.
Got all that? Well, I think it's time to write a new will. I've even been looking into those "do it yourself" will kits that you can buy at Wal-Mart. (I note that if I buy two kits, I also get a set of steak knives.)
My new will must have some caveats. First, my wife will need to make sure I'm dead. Got to leave me on ice for a week, at least, and my death must be verified by at least three competent physicians. I'm giving everything to my wife (again . . . she has everything anyway) with the exeption of:
My library (which will go the Smithsonian Institution for future generations to laugh at)
My original art work (which will go to the Guggenheim in New York. My stuff won't be any odder than the junk that is there now)
Anyway, these are my gifts to humanity. I hope future generations will be thrilled to receive them. Thanks for reading. Got to get to Wal-mart.