Thursday, March 26, 2009.....
It's great when you can chat with friends about the recent Presidential speech, the state of the economy and world events. However, sometimes that just becomes too taxing and my brain wants to explode.
I'm not going to explode because of the subject matter, but because other events of the day leave me so drained that I want to just shut down and have a mindless conversation.
I'm not sure why, but many people dismiss the mindless chat as frivilous and useless. Being the uber-mature person I am, I just want to just stick out my tongue at the individuals that can't appreciate the mindless chat.
For instance, last week, I was driving with hubby and had to give him some directions. The conversation went as follows:
Me: Turn down Fishing Pole Lane (it has another name, but he only knows it as that because some person on the street put a sign on his lawn "free fishing pole").
Hubby: Ya know, I'll never forgive you for not letting me get that free pole.
Me: Seriously??? That was 3 years ago and don't you have like 40 poles already???
Hubby: Yes. What's your point?
Me: Don't you have enough?
Hubby: You can never have enough and I can't talk about this anymore because I'm traumatized by the fact we couldn't stop.
Me: Maybe you seek therapy to get over this horrible trauma.
Hubby: Maybe I will.
Me: Pretend I'm the therapist.
Hubby: I can't.
Me: Why Not?
Hubby: Because when I look at you, I would be reminded that it was you that denied me the fishing pole and I could never truly open up. The pain of remembering would be too much.
Me: Uncontrollable laughter occuring.
Hubby: You wouldn't be laughing so hard if the sign had read: "Free Cookbooks". Especially if they were from the 1940's and 1950's.
Me: Well, that's different.
Hubby: How so? You have 200+ already, do you really need another one?
Me: YES....A cookbook from that era is sooo cool...I'm amazed at how many recipes include lard.
Hubby: Now, you see my point about the fishing pole.
Me: Nope. Cookbooks are cooler.
Hubby: Okay. I can't talk about this anymore. The memories are too painful.
Me: Laughing harder
You have to understand, he mentions the free fishing pole everytime we drive down this very short cut-through street and puts on his best pout face. Everytime it comes up I laugh, but I particulary love his extreme pathetic attempt to make me feel guilty for not stopping. It's a game now because every conversation becomes more extreme than the last one.
I will say, he's mastered the pout....well, if mastered means I die laughing when he does it because it is so lame.
Thank heavens for stupid/random conversations to relieve the stress of everyday life.