Pickles & Dimes

The biggest difference between Jason and I has to do with communication. Not necessarily how to communicate, but how often.

Jason typically has little human interaction during the day, while I could easily go without speaking for several days. (I actually enjoy having laryngitis.) I view the 29385798375 interruptions during my workday in a manner generously described as “murderous.”

When we get home from work we typically make small talk, ask each other about our day and then veg: we make dinner, read, watch the Twins or play cribbage. Talking is at a minimum on my part (just my personality, I guess), but it’s entirely unintentional.

I think what bothers Jason the most isn’t that I don’t talk much, it’s that I’m horrible at picking good times to talk. My verbal dam usually breaks right when he’s trying to read a book or when we’re in bed and he’s drifting off to sleep. Then he has the maddening position of listening to me babble about inane topics that have been bottled up in my little head for hours.

Me: I thought of a really cool band name this afternoon.

Jason: Oh yeah?

Me: Yeah. Toxic Saliva.

Jason: O…kay.

Me: You’re welcome.

Me: Hey, do you think a mini-fridge would fit in our bedroom? We could put it in the closet.

Jason: But the fridge is right in the kitchen, 15 feet away.

Me: Still…mini-fridge…in the closet. Think about it and get back to me.

Me: You know what recipe I found online today?

Jason: Does it involve bacon?

Me: Of course! Anyway, it was called the Triple Bypass Burger.

Jason: Sounds healthy.

Me: Yeah. And it was a beef patty wrapped around a hot dog, with bacon wrapped around the whole thing.

Jason: Wow.

Me: Can we try it?

Jason: No.

Me: Well, sleep on it and let me know.

Me: I’m really tired.

Jason (trying to read a sentence for the 47th time): Me too.

Me: But I’m too tired to sleep. Does that make sense? I’m so tired I’m twitchy.

Jason: Shoot me.