Three hoodies save the world

Constant moaning and whinging about everything

Deja – what?

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‘So what do you think, then?’
I may have touched on this subject before now. If my wife had, then she would remember, even what she was wearing, what she’d just watched on tv and what the weather was like twenty five years ago when the conversation had begun. Me, just a mortal man, I hadn’t a clue. Was “she” once again referring to a conversation we’d begun about a decade before and just expected me to remember where we left off, just as she always does?
After almost thirty three years of marriage I can barely remember my own name by the time I get home from work, let alone what a long gone character in her favourite soap spluttered as his life was cut short by another character whose name I don’t remember, and frankly don’t give a ….’
‘Should we go, or not?’
For most people the obvious answer would be to ask what she was talking about, smiling at the same time to show there was no ill-will.
That would be the kiss of death for me, for it would show that not only had I not been listening, but furthermore I didn’t care and just like my darling spawn is always accusing me of, wished she were dead.
I pondered briefly as to whether I should ask innocently or pretend to be asleep or dead. I tried the dead thing once and it worked fine for a few minutes, but the only problem with particular ploy is that one has to come back to life eventually.
‘What was that, my darling, my linnet?’
She turned to me, the gentle smile quickly transmogrifying into a grimace of icy malice.
At that moment the phone rang, and if there’s nothing more important to my beloved, even than say WW3 or an earthquake or a sink hole opening beneath the house, its the call of the “phone.”
She seems to have forgotten the question for the moment but until she remembers, probably right at the best part of NCIS I’ll rack what’s left of my brains to come up with a positive response. Yes seems to work most of the time

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