Conversation with My Wife (42)

Every reality show reaches that point where the participants need to be reminded not to talk into the camera

There’s a dead bug in there somewhere. I think this one was a centipede. I didn’t check it or anything, but my wife is an honest person and has not been known to boast without cause, so: centipede, dead and entissued. Next: find a Pinterest project to mount these little heads on a suitable display plaque.

It’s late. Not exceedingly late, just that do-not-operate-heavy-machinery-or-enter-into-financial-contracts time of day when it’s best to plan on getting ready for bed, then execute that plan. So I’m starting the end-of-day procedure by emptying my pockets onto our bedroom dresser when my wife walks in.

DEB: You married a Great Wide Worrier!*

ME: What?

DEB: I just killed a stink bug. That makes two centipedes, a stink bug, and a baby silverfish. That last one worries me, because it means there are a mommy silverfish and a daddy silverfish —

ME:— who love each other very much —

DEB: — exactly! You should put all this into a Conversation. Are you going to put this into a Conversation?

ME: (Having learned to pick up subtle hints) Yes. (Grabs iPad)

DEB: Or a high five. You should give me a high five. Unless you’re too busy typing away and not paying attention? (pointed look)

ME: (High five)

DEB: Thank you, honey, I’m just playing with you! … You should put that in there too. (Stares at iPad, then at me)

We’ll see how the ratings go on this one. It’s possible that future Medium scholars — or Gutbloom, who passes for one around here — will point to this posting as the one where Conversations with My Wife jumped the shark.

*Yes, I know, I figured out later what she meant, but that’s what I heard at the time. And it was also late for her, remember, and hunters and warriors are close to the same thing.

Conversations with My Wife (collection)