Maybe I Should Give Up Talking for Lent

Stephen calls me at work this afternoon and asks how things are going. I reply, wonderful, because my attorneys are out of the office and it's so quiet and peaceful. So quiet and peaceful, in fact, that I don't want to waste it by polluting it with my radio. I have to keep it pure and heavy. It's so quiet, that all I I'm listening to is the hum of the fluorescent lights.

He asks me twice to repeat myself. I do both times.

My whore is a wife??

Then, on our way to dine at the almighty Boston Market for my weekly feast of sweet potato casserole, we drive past this park in which a couple of bell towers were built last year. These remind me of the Bell Tower on Purdue's campus. So I point toward them and say, look, we're at Purdue!

He says, huh? I repeat myself. He looks all around with a confused look on his face.

Combat Purdue??

I may need to enunciate more and speak LOUDER, or someone really needs to clean his ears out. Either way, sometimes I swear the Mexican cleaning lady at work who speaks only five or six English words would do a better job of communicating with my husband. Not to mention, she also keeps the toilets much cleaner than I do, so I think that would probably be another big plus for him.