Open Mouth, Insert Foot, Get Wife Angry

Well, she’s not really angry. More like irritated. My oldest daughter too- she was there for my quip.

Late last night the three of us were lounging on our bed as Michelle and K were getting ready to watch the latest Tivo’d “The Closer” as I was getting ready to head down to the office and get a few things done. We were chatting about our day when Michelle talked about a phone call she had during the day.

She got a call about something we have to do today that required a decent amount of information transfer to coordinate all that has to happen to have today end organized and efficient. The call went much longer than she cared for it to. Her girlfriend went on and on about the details while our nephew, C (Michelle babysits him on Mondays) cried, laundry had to get done, and general chaos and craziness ruled the house.

As K and I listened to her woeful story Michelle lamented that the call went on and on, filled with so much back-story and detail that all she could do was listen- she couldn’t insert a comment, express her concern that she needed to wrap up the call, couldn’t do anything to stop the torrent of information.

She wrapped up the story by saying “It was unbelievable- the talking just kept coming…it was like talking to…”

She was about to say the name of a character from the Jane Austen film “Emma” that we had just watched. The kindly aunt that would barely breathe between long soliloquies that drowned out the whole of the earth.

I didn’t let her finish her sentence…I interjected “a woman.”

I laughed. Michelle and K didn’t.






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