Lately, he has become peckish when I interrupt him. "Let me FINISH!" he snaps.
I'm alarmed with his cantankerous reaction. "Why are you so angry with me?" I ask him. "I've been interrupting you for 47 years and now suddenly you're angry? What's changed?"
"I'm tired of it."
Oh.
"We'll need a sign," I said. "I don't think I can change. I'm addicted to interrupting you. It's a way of life."
We have no sign until one night we're eating with our granddaughter, Anne, and I begin interrupting Tom and stop dead. He has one finger stuffed up his nose. "This is the sign," he says.
Sometimes it requires two fingers up his nose. But it stops me dead.
Who says you can't train an old dame?
You guys are the BEST! And WHAT a visual!:)
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing!
I can totally picture this!!!!
ReplyDeleteAnd I am laughing, all alone in my house.
I wish I could share my reaction with you personally, but I have tears of mirth streaming down my face. Way to go, Tom. Way to be trained, Louise. Whoooooooo boy.
ReplyDeleteI am heading toward this conversation in my marital future. What I consider enthusiastic listening and assistant story telling (joining in! fun banter!) isn't how my husband experiences it, I'm fairly certain. Turns out interrupting isn't his love language. Who knew?
ReplyDeleteI never thought I would enjoy seeing Tom with finger up his nose, but I do. I do.
ReplyDeletehaha. "It is the way of life." FUNNY!
ReplyDeleteOh Louise. Tom. We need more of you. Less trained. More fingers up the snout.
ReplyDeleteA whole new dimension has been added to giving someone the finger.
ReplyDeleteI love you guys even a little more now because of this entry. I almost woke the baby laughing out loud!
ReplyDeleteI do the same thing to my poor husband. He is a saint. But not as saintly as Tom. I don't think I will make it 47 years before my husband gives me the sign...
ReplyDelete