Hubby and I really do communicate. Not that you would notice. After chatting with his sister on the phone for half an hour, he neglects to tell me about her plans for a reunion, or the latest earth-shattering news. He swears that yes, he told me – I just forgot.
His family must believe my mind is a constantly leaking sieve.
Like he remembers anything, Ha! If it has to do with firearms, power tools, or nakedidity – the man can remember it. He draws a blank if there is a calendar involved. Take Valentines Day as an example. The man didn’t know that it fell on February 14th – EVERY YEAR. Or, if he did know, he rather pretend he’s a moron than get me a present. Either way, I do not get a present.
But we won’t go there today…
We have this huge calendar that hangs on the refrigerator door. Our entire life is on there – doctor appointments, birthdays, events we plan to attend, guests arrival dates, parties, 49er football games – I mean everything. All he has to do is look at it. I cross out the days that have already passed even, so not to confuse him.
The man still does not know what week it is, let alone the day. He has a Jeff Foxworthy daily calendar on his dresser. He doesn’t tear off the past days redneck jokes, so even that calendar can’t help him. I can’t blame this on retirement because it all started years ago. Around the time we got married.
Why should he pay attention to all that? He has his very own personal day-timer – Moi. All he needs to do is ask ‘what day is it?’, ‘when are the kids coming up?’, ‘don’t you have somewhere to go today?’. Now this has spilled over to television. ‘What channel is blah-blah on?’ ‘What day/time is whatchamacallit on?’, ad-nausea.
I find it odd that he expects me to just know all this stuff for him, off the top of my head. As if this was in the vows I took at our wedding. Maybe it was.
My mind leaks like a sieve, you know.