Apparently, after spending 10 years together, my husband expects me to read his mind. Every nuance, every raised eyebrow, every facial expression, I am supposed to know EXACTLY what he is thinking AT THAT MOMENT without him needing to utter one word and react accordingly.
Truthfully? Since he's really not that complicated? I probably could. The thing is, I don't want to.
A typical conversation as we are driving somewhere goes like thisl:
Dan: *nudge nudge* *point*
Me: *looking up from my Kindle* What?
Him: Never mind, you missed it.
10 minutes later:
Him: *nudge* *point point* *nudge*
Me: *looking up from my Kindle* WHAT?
Him: Never mind! You missed it!
Eventually, it will increase to more exaggerated pointing, punctuated by him loudly speaking my name:
Him: Dani! DANI! *point point* *raised eyebrows*
Me: WHAT! Jesus, just use your damn words! Tell me where to freaking look and what I'm looking at! GOD!!
Him: Never mind. You missed it.
It's pretty much the same at home. The following is a little scene from our bedroom, circa 4:00 a.m.
Dan got up to pee, and as he is completely unable to do anything quietly, I got to wake up with him. He grunted and stumbled to the bathroom, kicking his boots which were left conveniently next to the bed (where he took them off), swore, bumped into a few walls, crashed and banged his way into the bathroom, peed loudly and obnoxiously, clanged and banged his way back to bed, fell in next to me, and farted.
Since I was already awake (thank you, Dan) I figured I might as well pee, too.
Got up, peed, came back to bed. Neat and efficient, no noise involved, up, down, up, down.
Ahhhhhhhhhh... back to sleep.
I was just drifting off when I hear:
Dan: *poke poke*
Dan: Dani! *poke*
Dan: *poke poke*
Dan: Don't you hear that?
Me: Hear WHAT?
Him: You seriously don't hear that?
Me: *listening intently* Hear WHAT?
Him: You seriously don't hear that.
Me: Dan! Hear WHAT! USE YOUR DAMN WORDS!
Him: You left the fan on in the bathroom.
Me: I didn't TURN the fan on in the bathroom.
Him: Yes, you DID. It's running.
Me: No I didn't, and no it isn't. Go to sleep.
Me: *urge to kill*
Him: *poke* Dani.
Me: *stomping out of bed and into the bathroom* THE FAN ISN'T ON. *stomping back to bed*
Him: What's that noise?
This went on for about 5 minutes, until I finally figured out he was hearing the refrigerator running.
No jury would convict me, y'all.