CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?
Please understand, I love my husband dearly. He’s a good, kind, understanding, supportive, loving man and has been for all the forty six years of our married life together. He loves our children, is kind to our dogs, and good to his fellow man.
He does however, have one fault that drives me up the wall.
Unfortunately, he only hears what he’s interested in hearing. He has an astounding ability to concentrate on one thing to the point of not hearing or acknowledging the world around him. He claims he developed it during his growing up years when he chose to block out his mother. I believe him because no one could have developed this talent to this degree of perfection without years of practice.
He’s been known to start thinking about a project he’s working on and miss his exit off the Interstate. Not by one exit or two or three, but by almost one-hundred miles. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been talking to him, conveying something of importance, only to have him tell me a few days later that I never told him that. Infuriating, to say the very least.
Just such an incident happened last week. While watching one of our favorite TV shows, I waited patiently for a commercial, as is my normal practice because talking to him during a show is a lot like having a conversation with a stuffed bear. When the commercial finally came on, a very in-depth reenactment of how one tiny pink bunny was able to light up an entire city when the generators failed, he stared at the TV as though they were imparting the secret to world peace. Stupidly, I ignored his fixed expression and told him that I’d sold another book.
He grunted in response, said “Way to go, honey.” I therefore assumed that my words had penetrated the attention of a grown man mesmerized by this tiny, pastel rodent beating a drum. My mistake.
Lat night, I made the same announcement to my daughter on the phone. When I hung up, he glared at me and asked why I hadn’t told him first. I, in turn, told him I did tell him the same day I made the sale. That’s when the blank looks came over him and I got the old mantra “No you didn’t.”
One would think after forty six years I would have found the secret to communicating with the man I married. Not so. I spend most of my life feeling like that strange little man who travels around the globe saying “Can you hear me now?”
Until next time…
Blessings,
Elizabeth
He does however, have one fault that drives me up the wall.
Unfortunately, he only hears what he’s interested in hearing. He has an astounding ability to concentrate on one thing to the point of not hearing or acknowledging the world around him. He claims he developed it during his growing up years when he chose to block out his mother. I believe him because no one could have developed this talent to this degree of perfection without years of practice.
He’s been known to start thinking about a project he’s working on and miss his exit off the Interstate. Not by one exit or two or three, but by almost one-hundred miles. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been talking to him, conveying something of importance, only to have him tell me a few days later that I never told him that. Infuriating, to say the very least.
Just such an incident happened last week. While watching one of our favorite TV shows, I waited patiently for a commercial, as is my normal practice because talking to him during a show is a lot like having a conversation with a stuffed bear. When the commercial finally came on, a very in-depth reenactment of how one tiny pink bunny was able to light up an entire city when the generators failed, he stared at the TV as though they were imparting the secret to world peace. Stupidly, I ignored his fixed expression and told him that I’d sold another book.
He grunted in response, said “Way to go, honey.” I therefore assumed that my words had penetrated the attention of a grown man mesmerized by this tiny, pastel rodent beating a drum. My mistake.
Lat night, I made the same announcement to my daughter on the phone. When I hung up, he glared at me and asked why I hadn’t told him first. I, in turn, told him I did tell him the same day I made the sale. That’s when the blank looks came over him and I got the old mantra “No you didn’t.”
One would think after forty six years I would have found the secret to communicating with the man I married. Not so. I spend most of my life feeling like that strange little man who travels around the globe saying “Can you hear me now?”
Until next time…
Blessings,
Elizabeth
posted by Elizabeth Sinclair at
5:15 PM
3 Comments
