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Yesterday George and I spent the afternoon drafting our wills, living wills and living trusts. Which meant we got to have all sorts of fun conversations, like, "If I'm in a coma, and the doctors don't think I'll come out of it, do you think I should refuse CPR?" and "Should we give our parents the power to sell our house if we're too incapacitated to make those decisions for ourselves?" and "Honey, if you're pregnant, you want the terms of your living will suspended so the doctors will keep you alive long enough to deliver the baby, right?"

I thought we should forge ahead and do our taxes next, but I think this too much for George, as he buried his head in his hands and wept softly at my suggestion. I don't know why . . . nothing says fun like death and taxes. Add some chips and dip, and we could have called it a par-tay.

Posted 20 March 2005 at 04:03 PM