As I write this blog, I am sitting on the back deck at the house, dog curled at my feet (hope he's dead), piles of papers and books on either side of my Adirondack chair, and the wife working on her computer with mounds of books and papers strewn across her lap. A great night. If only we had a life.
In case anyone is interested, here's been the extent of our past hour's conversation.
Old Lady: Would you like to make a fire on Friday night? I'm taking an evening off.
Me: (Grunting sound, missing the sexual overtones and the invitation.)
Old Lady (ten minutes later): I'm getting tired. I need some coffee. Would you drink some coffee?
Me: (Grunting as I rise on knees which emit loud popping sounds) I'll make the freakin' coffee. (The Old Lady makes a face and wonders why I have not keeled over as it sounds like my knees have come loose from their sockets.)
Old Lady (twenty minutes later): I can't believe this professor is expecting us to do this! I can't believe this syllabus!
Me: (Grunting as if to say, Ask me if I care) You'll get through it.
Old Lady: What do you mean, I'll get through it? How do you know?
Me: (Grunting because I have been interrupted in my writing . . . again!!! What's up with this woman? Why can't she do her own homework and leave me alone? I've got a masterpiece going here and need my silence! The kid is upstairs doing his homework. What's up with the old lady?) You are brilliant. You will be a success. You are going to go far. Oh, and by the way, Chelsey sold some more of her textbooks. I'm going to ship them out tomorrow!
Old Lady: I'm sorry, what did you say?
See what I mean? If you want excitement, don't come to our house. All I can offer you is a stack of greasy books or perhaps a cup of day-old coffee and a ream of writing paper. We do have a nice deck, however, and enjoy the tranquility of these fall evenings. It's just a shame we don't have a life.