Day 2

With 28 more to go. Sheesh.

Yesterday wasn't bad because I slept in, while he was busy cleaning the kitchen top to bottom. He did get a bit on my nerves with his chatting away to the cats (and sometimes me) and his hyperactivity. But not like today.

Today, I was up, awake, and dressed to go do some Christmas shopping. Okay. We spent about 2 hours together, out in public. Which was fine, and fun, especially in the toy aisles at WalMart.

But then we get home.

And he's still talking.

And talking.

And talking.

I swear that this is God's way of punishing me for my constant blather years ago. (and yes, it WAS TOO years ago.)

He has been talking about EVERY BLESSED MOVE he makes. He claims its to the cats, but I think, secretly, deep down, he's doing it to annoy me.

I suggested that he find one of those bizarre screech-shoot-and-swear manflicks he's always finding, you know the ones I mean. There's an f-bomb, a scream, and an explosion every 3 minutes. Real Academy Award winners, those are.

Anyway. I also suggested that to go with the movie, he could call his hearing-aid-less father, and talk REALLY REALLY REALLY LOUD! to him, while pacing behind me while I try and read.

There's a reason I'm enjoying work right now.