Sweet Silence

Apparently, my hubby thinks I talk too much. Now, if you asked people who know me well, they could definitely...Um, never mind.

I told the hubby that of course I talked too much, because I was home all day with just the dogs, and so by time he gets home, all of my thoughts for the entire day have bottled up inside of me until they just have to come bursting out, and he just happens to be on the receiving end of the flood. I told him that I only had the dogs for company, and they never listen to me half the time anyway. Based on the amount of holes dug in my backyard and shoes chewed up in my closet, I should probably up that estimate.

But anyway, we got to our destination (the mall) and I decided to conduct a scientific study: To discover whether I am the only wife who does all the talking in a relationship. As I walked around the mall and surreptiously watched other couples, I came to the sad realization that not only was it normal for the wife to do all of the talking, but based on what I saw, it was the only way that husband/wife relationships worked. I did not spy a single couple where the hubby talked even half of the time, let alone dominated the conversation. I wasn't sure if I should be happy because I wasn't the only one this way, or if I should be embarrassed because the female population doesn't seem to have an off switch.

We left the mall and headed over to the grocery store. There, finally, I found a couple where the hubby talked all the time, and the wife didn't talk at all: They happened to be standing in line and the husband was arguing with the cashier as to whether the orange juice was $00.88 cents a can or $00.66 cents a can. The cashier left the checkout stand and personally checked the price himself. He came back with the sad news that the husband had been looking at the wrong sign, and the price was in fact $00.88 a can. The wife never said a word, and I wasn't sure if it was because she was mortified because her spouse was making real jerk of himself over 22 cents, or because she just tended to be quiet no matter what.

I vote for the quiet no matter what, not only because it ups my scientific study from 100-0 to 99-1 (yay! One couple!) but also because it's hard when you're embarrassed by your spouse, and I hoped she didn't understand what an idiot he looked like. In this case, ignorance truly is bliss.

After the shopping expedition, it was time to head home. We loaded up the groceries and headed back out to the freeway. As we got on, my hubby made the fatal mistake of bringing up the "too much talking" subject again. I finally said, "Is this a challenge?" He laughed, a deep belly laugh, and patted me on the knee in that condescending way that men have, and said, "Honey, you could never stay quiet for more than 3 minutes." I just looked at him, raised my eyebrows, and smiled, that easy-you-are-about-to-eat-mud smile, and then leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes. I wasn't going to talk to him if it killed me.

It almost did. I never truly realized this about myself (get ready for a belly laugh here, peoples!) but I actually DO talk a lot!!! About every three seconds, I thought, "Oh, I--" and then would stop myself. I couldn't say anything. I was sure I was going to pass out from the exertion of keeping my mouth shut. It truly was hard work! As we pulled into the driveway 20 minutes later (some sort of a world record for me, I am positive) Doug turned to me. "I never thought you would last this long." There was wonder in his voice, and just a bit of respect. I turned to him and smiled sweetly. I didn't say a word.

We unloaded the groceries and brought them inside. The dogs did their Happy Puppy Dog Dance that they do every time we come home (I haven't seen you for days and days! I missed you so much! Please give me a belly rub! Please please please please,) and I realized that my not speaking meant I couldn't even say hello to my dogs! That was hard for me. I petted them, and then as quickly as I could manage, I went back to my room and hid on my computer. If Doug wasn't around to talk to, it would be a lot easier to not slip up.

I made it for two hours before I had to call a friend and talk to her. Doug and I talked that night in bed and he told me how proud he was of me for making it two hours. He learned that sometimes silence truly isn't sweet, because he would rather have a wife talking his ear off than a wife who hides from him so she doesn't make the mistake of talking to him. And I realized that perhaps, maybe, there is an infinitesimal chance in this wide universe that I do, in fact, talk too much.

Just don't tell the hubby I said so.

Havs