Sometimes when you’ve been married to someone for 37 years, conversations get a little out of whack.
Here’s what happened last night for instance.
The Scene: 37 is relaxing in his recliner eating soup and a sandwich and watching the golf channel, and I am cleaning out the bookshelf. My comments are in green, and 37′s are in red.
There! I have it all arranged according to topic! And I found this whole stack of books I completely forgot about!
Phil Mickelson got inducted into the PGA Hall of Fame!
Oh I thought you were talking about the way I rearranged the books.
Mmmm. . . turned out really really good.
Thank you, I’ve always been good at organizing!
Did you make it from scratch or buy it at the store?
Oh what? You mean the soup?
Oh Jeez! I don’t believe it!
What? Did you find a bone or something?
I cannot believe Dustin Johnson missed that putt!
Oh, I thought you meant the soup.
Hey wait a minute something’s different.
Yeah, hello? I just cleaned out the book shelf, that’s what’s different.
This tuna doesn’t taste like normal.
You mean it tastes funny?
That’s what I’m talkin’ about! YES!
Well maybe that’s why it was on sale.
Tiger Woods just made that 37-foot putt . . . YES!
You know what? You haven’t been listening to a word I’ve been saying!
Yes I have!
Ok, what have I been talking about?
Before I answer that, answer me this . . . why are all these books scattered everywhere?
Until next time . . . I love you