Mercy! Mercy! That Dang Nabed PERCY!

Talking to my Wife

Talking to my wife

When my wife gets back from a weekend as a cardiac nurse she is wound tight as a bow string and needs to unwind. She does this by discussing her patients and all the meds and procedures and conversations she shared in the course of her three shifts.

Some of it is a bit gross but in an earlier life I was an infantry soldier and it has to get pretty gross to penetrate my defensive mechanisms. Still some of the things they do to a patient makes my spinchter tighten up just a little.

Now it isn’t the first rendition that I object to but when she starts in on the reruns I have to get her to stop. I do this by telling her things about the cars I worked on while she was away in the same manner that she does her patients. I do this all the time and she doesn’t seem to really catch on and is so smart that she actually understands what I am explaining to her.

My daughters are very different but still like her in this regard. When they used to go to the movies I used to get to hear an almost word for word rendition of the dialogue. He said this and she said that they would intone as they explained what was said in the movie from beginning to end. Their grandmother had an almost photographic memory and perhaps they got some of this from her, however my mother had a memory for languages and quickly learned to speak wherever my father was assigned overseas.

One of my daughters in particular is adept at languages and virtually learned German, (fluently) in the year we lived in a woodcutters village outside Kaiserslautern. The Other daughter is more inclined to numbers and symbols and teaches math. Both however have a knack for recall shared by their mother.

Why are you boring me with this you ask. This blog is worse than being asked by friends to watch home movies of their vacation. The reason I bring it up is because when I can’t think of anything else to write in my blog I regurgitate what I told Linda going into much more detail than is really necessary to send a sort of subtle signal and not hurt her feelings or make her feel she has to bottle those experiences up inside. Part of being a husband is to get emotionally abused and beat up from time to time when the frustration level in a woman gets too high and they have to blow off a little steam.

Tomorrow I think I will talk about installing my electrical guage and relate it to volts, Ohms and resistance. This is something a writer should be able to relate to even if they don’t know anything about cars or electricity. It will also give me a run through on what to tell Linda when she finishes telling me about her experiences next weekend.

“So how did your weekend go,” she will ask… And I will reply, “Why honey I installed an electrical meter. Devilishly clever instruments they are….do you know there are actually two types…. Volt meters and Amp meters. Would you like to know the difference?”