I was sitting on the back porch having lunch with my grandparents. My grandma and grandpa were sitting in chairs next to each other, across the table from me.

It was the day after Easter. The buds of the first leaves were starting to show on the trees in the backyard.

“Those are farm trees, the ones that grow the hedge apples,” my grandma said.

“I have a list that’s 17 pages long, and you know what …” and I already knew by the tone of his voice that there was a characteristic grandpa-joke coming, “It’s single-spaced!”

“Hah!” He laughed like he always did.

“I’ve got to change the oil in the car,” said grandpa.

“That should be at the top of the list,” said grandma.

“I know it. And I’ve got to put another coat of paint on the door,” said grandpa.

“Well that should be toward the bottom of the list,” said grandma.

“Well, no, it’s at the top of my list,” said grandpa.

“The sun is starting to come over the house now,” said grandma.

“I’m gonna go get the umbrella,” said grandpa. And off he went.