I hit pause on the remote. Close my eyes and shake my head. “A mas freezer man?” I say incredulously.
Slowing down and enunciating, he repeats. “Is this the most recent one?”
I have an eerie mind-reading ability with my husband after 10 years together. It’s not uncommon for him to inhale in anticipation of asking me something and for me to answer him before a sound escapes his mouth. Or for him to make an extremely vague statement like, “You’ll never guess who I heard from today,” and for me to, without hesitation, name the person even though it’s someone we haven’t spoken of for at least 2 years.
I don’t know how I do this, I just do. I know what he’s thinking, sometimes before he does.
Considering this uncanny ability, I’m proposing that from now on out, we communicate only through extrasensory perception because quite frankly, I understand him much better when he doesn’t speak.
Gabe is a mumbler. If there was an international contest for mumbling, the organizers would just mail Gabe his medal each year, the competition having given up all hopes of taking the crown in 1996.
He’s a smart, smart man — scary smart. And you wouldn’t need me to tell you that if you could ever understand what he’s saying.
Yesterday, he came into the kitchen and yelled “Skank Nah?” in my general direction as I loaded the dishwasher. I slowly turned my head towards him and with raised eyebrows said, “Did you just call me a skank?”
“No, I asked you if you knew where the tape gun was.”
Oh of course. Those things sound exactly alike.
So in the future, instead of having to try and figure out what something like, “It’s asbestos weekend” means, I plan to look at him and say, “Sorry we’re missing it” as soon as he enters the room. It may go against good, sound marital advice but in our case, a lack of communication will just be what keeps us together.
On the other hand, I’d miss the entertainment. A few months ago, I started writing down some of his mumblings, because quite frankly, they can always be counted on for comic relief. I can be sitting impatiently in a doctor’s waiting room, pop open the note on my iPhone with the list and just start shaking from laughter.
I may be the only one who thinks this is funny. You tell me.