Last night around 11PM I say to Carlos:
“I’m tired, I’m going to bed now.”
“I’m going to read for a bit longer.”
“All right. Night. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
I go to bed and I’m out like a light until I get nudged:
“Did I tell you about my meeting today?”
“No, but—”
And he proceeds to tell me every detail of his meeting. When
he finished, I again say how tired I am and am going to sleep, and again, after
a bit I get nudged awake:
“I was talking to Ellen today …”
And he gives me a word-by-word replay of their conversation
until I realize it’s now midnight and I say:
“Please, can I just get some sleep?”
“Oh sorry, night sweetie.”
And then I hear:
“How would you like to have dinner with some friends on
Saturday night?”
“Can this wait?”
“Well, I mean, we didn’t get a chance to have dinner for my
birthday last week and I was—”
“I guess the dinner and drinks and desert we had at Masa last
Tuesday night ON YOUR BIRTHDAY don’t count?”
“Oh, I forgot.”
The worst part of this story is that we both had the day off
and he’d had all day to tell me his stories but waited until I’m asleep. But
hen, maybe he thought it would be the only time I had my yap closed? |