A Hubby Story: You Do Get Me Right?

From here



Just like Bon Jovi, let me start by saying this ain’t a love song. Nor is it a romantic yarn of any sort.

This is just a story about miscommunication, a bit of he says, she says. Although I think this is more of my hubby’s miscommunication than mine because I communicate fine (probably still in denial state, but who cares?).

Of course, I know that I have the habit of telling stories that are sporadic in nature. I’d be on one story and start the next one without warning. And then go back to the first story again. Such was what I did recently whilst discussing several stories simultaneously with hubby. After a while of trying to follow a one-way conversation, he complains that he is having a hard time keeping up because I just jump between subjects too much.

Further, I get annoyed when I am in the midst of telling my story and with the ending in sight, I expect hubby to jump right in and tell me what happens next….and then it just doesn’t happen. Or he tells me the wrong kind of ending.

Sure, most of the time he and I think alike. And we do enjoy our daily banter of ordinary stuff. However, we’re not characters out of a novel from Mills and Boon. We just don’t have that kind of ESP technology to finish each other’s sentences.

So I have learnt yet another thing in all my years of marriage. I must be prepared to talk...and finish my own stories. My husband will sit attentively. Whether he's listening or not is anybody's guess.

Just one label of warning: Men are not Martians and so they don’t read minds. They come prepared to take instructions and be told what you want done. No training manuals. And no batteries included either.