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.

Comments

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?

11:20 AM

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!

1:59 PM

edrie said…

classic!

8:52 AM

Linda said…

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

2:45 PM

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