Sunday, February 08, 2009

I seem to be in a Pinter play all the time

Interior apartment, afternoon
Me: There's still bread. You should eat some.
Spouse: What?
Me: Bread. There's bread.
Spouse: You want me to eat some bread?
Me: Yes, I'm hawking bread at you. You don't have to eat the small piece. I'll use that in meatballs.
Spouse: What?
Me: Meatballs.
Spouse: Oh. Meatballs.
Me: There's granola too.
Spouse: How much ingredients are left.
Me: I used all the flakes but there's lots of fruit (holds up containers of dried fruit)
Spouse: Lots of fruit left.
Me: Yes, it will be good for hot cereal.
Spouse: What?
Me: Cereal. Hot cereal. Porridge, Cream of Wheat.
Spouse: Oh.
Me: You know, the longer we live together, the more we sound like Pinter characters. You know, how the dialog is always stilted, and people talk over each other.
Spouse: (raising foot) Pull my foot.

Yes, I swear this conversation happened today (hell, every day). It was actually longer, but would probably work better on stage than page.


50sgal said...

This is hilarious. I can almost picture the pair of you, even though I have never seen you (just your pic). Isn't it interesting the realtionships and language we build with our signifigant others?

Teru said...

By the time he held up his foot (he had a cramp he wanted me to massage out) I was doubled over laughing. Our conversations are inscrutable enough without them ending in weird gestures like that!

edrie said...


Linda said...

I got a good laugh out of that. Thank you!