I wasn’t talking to you
Way back when Ol’ Dutch interviewed Miss Trixie for a position on “the team,” I was working at the local church helping remodel.
And as luck would or would not have it — depending on if you are me or her — she showed up about that time in my life and offered to help. Now Ol’ Dutch should have known then and there it was all a ruse to corral this stallion but I was desperate for help and fell for it hook, line and sinker.
So, help she did and she also pulled out all stops by asking me over to her mom’s house for dinner every day. I know. I should have seen that coming from 10 miles away but her mom could cook and I was hungry, and so here we are.
But I did like her mom and dad and we could have spirited conversations about life and the world as all three of us were of the conservative persuasion. However, Miss Trixie having a short leg on her left side often found it necessary to interject her liberal viewpoint. To which her mother would say, “we weren’t talking to you.”
I loved it. That saying has come in handy more than once in the intervening 10 years of relationship bliss as Miss Trixie has a tendency to listen in to any and everything I say. Of course, this is needed as she has to correct my every word if it does not line up with her agenda.
Of late I have been just saying “you are right and I am wrong” to which she tries to argue that is not true all the while maintaining her point of view.
Now, normally Ol’ Dutch does not care if she listens in on my conversations as there is nothing secret going on there but lately it's taken on a life of its own.
No longer can I sit in my chair late at night and talk to Cooper the dog or myself without hearing her interject something from the bedroom. I swear she can be sound asleep and hear me talking to myself and ask follow-up questions. And since I cannot hear her shouting from the bedroom, she sends a rash of text messages on my phone which I then have to answer thereby interrupting the latest episode of “Green Acres” on the tube.
And poor Cooper never even gets a chance to answer as she answers for him. Why just the other night I looked over at him and asked if he wanted something to eat. Immediately my phone blew up with texts telling me what he had had to eat that day and he didn't need anymore.
A quick “I wasn't talking to you” reply to Miss Trixie usually sends her back to her watching left-handed news on her phone but the worst is when Ol’ Dutch tries to have a conversation with himself.
It appears that is not allowed as she cannot, for the life of her, figure out who I am talking to in the living room while she is in bed. Little does she know that I am having probably the smartest conversation I have had all day considering most of my time is spent talking to my cows during daylight hours.
Then again, maybe not. They are pretty smart after all and Ol’ Dutch is the one babbling on and on about hay, grain, and grass while they just look at me and eat it.
So I know what you are thinking. That maybe Ol’ Dutch has slipped a cog or two in talking to himself but not to worry, I have not started to answer myself as of yet. For you see, the questions I pose are way too hard for a feeble mind.