Second Helpings

Delusions

When hubby was in the loo the other night, I became interested in a television programme about the Sahara desert. His long sessions in there do sometimes have their advantages. Too much information maybe. Later that evening we visited some friends and I happened to mention how fascinating the geology programme was.

'Oh, that's on every Tuesday,' my friend's hubby informed me. 'You should catch up on the series through on demand and then watch it every week.'

I explained that would be difficult as failing loo visits or life-threatening situations, hubby has the remote stuck to his hand and is always glued to what he chooses to watch on T.V.

I'm not,' came the familiar reply. I really don't know why I bother starting any debates with him. I don't/didn't/wasn't/aren't should be his middle name. I pointed out he's the one who sits in front of the television every night of the week and generally dictates what's on.

'I don't.'

Conversation then turned to parents and the problem of hearing loss. I should have kept my big mouth closed, but in vino veritas often gets the better of me. I tried to subtly inform hubby his own hearing isn't so great and the volume at which he has the television on is very annoying and distracting at times.

'I don't. It's you. You've inherited your mother's sensitive ears.'

I comment other people have noticed the volume level too and am then subjected to an interrogation of who's been talking about him.

'Anyway, you're always on the computer.' That's always the last line of any debate and a signal not to continue the discussion. I usually comply as by then I realise there is no logic in the man's brain and it's pointless wasting any more breath.

Hindsight is indeed a wonderful thing. If I'd known then what I know now, there is NO way I'd have chosen a house with a through lounge. Yes, I could escape upstairs, where there's another television and computer, but that's not really where I want to spend my evenings and much as I find things irritating, would not wish to appear unsociable.

What hubby fails to ever realise is that when I sit at the computer I can still see and hear the television, which prevents me ever being able to listen to anything on the computer and annoys the hell out of me, particularly when it's sport. Yes, I could wear headphones but it's not the best or most practical solution and I'd probably only get quizzed about what I was listening to, as excluding hubby from anything always arouses suspicion.

On this occasion I was stupid enough to pursue the conversation and complained that manic sport's commentators and hysterical crowds are not sounds I find relaxing or want to hear. My friend's hubby told me he doesn't watch much sport.

'Neither do I,' responds hubby. 'I just watch a bit of football.'

Well, if Saturday, Sunday, Monday and Wednesday nights, plus any live daytime matches are 'a bit of football,' then I'd hate to be subjected to what he considers a lot. Add to that every Test Match and summer seasons of cricket, plus snooker, darts, tennis and tiddlywinks, then surely I have a point.

But it's pointless pursuing the topic, so I return to my drink.

'Anyway, you're always on the computer.' If I'd chosen to be buried I think he'd have that inscribed on my tombstone.

I'm not, but I point out that even if I was, why should that be annoying as it makes no noise and doesn't interfere with what he's doing. It falls on deaf ears as usual.

If we ever have the opportunity to move, two seperate rooms downstairs with solid doors would be my top priority. Being esconced in another room with walls between where hubby cannot see me, might give him a cardiac arrest, but for me the peace and solitude would be comparitive heaven.

But then two seperate planets might be an even better solution, although the volume he has the damned football matches on I'd probably still be able to hear them.

Oh well, if and when that time ever arrives, I wonder what I'll find to whinge about then?