I swear sometimes that the Crankee Yankee and I are speaking two different languages. I will ask him something as plain as “what happened to the Sunday paper? I haven’t read it yet.”
And he will reply, “I bought the Sunday paper this morning.” Um, yeah, got that, but where the heck is it now?
Or this one the other day: each morning the Crankee Yankee gets up before I do (because he goes to bed earlier). He makes the coffee, and goes downstairs to clean all the litter boxes for our five cats, and then puts out food and water in the backyard for the neighborhood strays. In addition, he puts food and water out on our front deck where our buddy, Stripey the cat (another stray), likes to have his breakfast.
The night before, I always fill a plastic container of kibble for him (Stripey, not the Crankee Yankee), and place an empty plastic container over it, with a fresh bottle of water on top. I do that at night so that the Crankee Yankee can simply put it out on the deck for Stripey in the morning.
The other day when I got up I saw that he had put Stripey’s food in a black container instead of the one I left out. I asked him why he didn’t use the plain plastic container he always uses. He said, “oh, I just used the black one instead.”
And there I was again, wondering why he did this. Not that it’s a big deal, but it would be interesting to hear the why. I mean, for weeks now I have been fixing the same containers of kibble and water; so why the change?
I am a creature of habits, and I don’t like changes to those habits (can say ‘set in her ways?’). So when something outside the box happens, I just want to know the why of it.
But the worst is when we have one of our epic misunderstandings, such as this conversation the other day:
HIM: “What do you know about leaks?”
ME: “Leaks? Why don’t you ask your brother? He knows all about that stuff.”
HIM: “He knows NOTHING about leaks; why would he?”
ME: “He doesn’t? I thought for sure he would.”
HIM: “How would he? He doesn’t have a garden like we do!”
…it was then that I realized that he was asking me about the LEEKS we had planted and that were now ready to pick, not actual leaking leaks!!! He wanted to know how to prepare them; something I actually DO know about.
Once we stopped laughing about that one, I explained how you have to cut and clean them. Then we cracked up all over again.
Great communicators we are not. Our communication skills are often about as clear as a Monty Python skit. Oh well, at least both of us are doing it. As Mom used to say, “pretty soon we’ll be hiding our own Easter eggs!”