You Can Leave your Ham On

I overheard a conversation lately in which an exasperated older woman was sharing that she now avoided asking her husband any question, no matter how small, because of the endless, elaborate answers he supplied. “I mean, I just asked what time it was,” she sighed, “And he somehow started in on the history of how clocks are made …”

I do think that The Pandemic has a lot to answer for: not going out for days at a time; receiving birthday gifts via the porch with the recipient tearfully miming thanks behind the glass; not being able to see friends for dinner or even enjoy a quick chat with the grocery store staff without feeling their impatience; I recall how the letter carrier actually recoiled when I coincidentally opened the ‘plague’ door last year at the precise moment he was arriving.

(Alright, it was the Wine Shoppe delivery but still, you get the idea).

The art of everyday conversation with only one person can be challenging; indeed, I have noticed that even The General asks me the same things EVERY single day. Each morning he asks if I would like bacon and eggs? Which – I would not. It is lovely that he asks and the way that he manages to vary his tone is impressive, but I have explained my devotion to toast many, many times. Again, at lunchtime – each day – he displays the same incredulity when I refuse politely, yet again, to share some of his beloved ham slices.

I’m tempted to reply in verse à la Sam-I-Am: “I would not like them here or there, I would not like them anywhere …” but instead, I always remind him that I am “not a big meat eater.”

The cheese stands alone. In my sandwich, at least …

Hilariously, after months – no, wait, years – of this fascinating banter, he leaned in brightly today and observed waggishly: “You know, I think you said that yesterday.”

A friend reported that if she heard her husband clacking and rattling large mints against his teeth for much longer in the otherwise silent tranquility of their living room she would not be responsible for her actions. A disturbing pantomime was provided for me that included her humming the music from ‘Psycho” …

Still, it’s the little things, isn’t it?

Maintaining a sense of humour, no matter how frayed, is key. And, The General remains the breakfast king, producing sumptuous fry-ups on the weekend which yes, I am regularly seduced by. (Hint: It’s those burnished hash browns that get me every time …)

I am equally certain that I too am guilty of asking the same questions all the time. Typically: “Do you think I am crazy?” or more frequently still “Do you still like me?”

Thankfully, The General is just as incredulous about these questions as he is about the ham.

3 comments