Conversations

Doug and I have some interesting conversations, sometimes because of his (not mine, mind you) hearing problem, but sometimes just because he (not I, mind you) has some communication issues.

One example occurred on a kind of dreary day, when I came home from running some errands. He was in the garage when I raised the garage door to pull the car in. He stopped me and said, "Just leave the car out of the garage. I want to clean it." Well, in my humble opinion, this was no day for washing a car; but I did as he asked and left the car outside.

Quite awhile later, when Doug came into the house, I asked him if he had washed the car yet. He gave me a dumbfounded look and said, "Why would I want to wash the car on a day like this?" I gave HIM a dumbfounded look and reminded him of his instructions to leave the car out of the garage so he could clean it. He laughed and said he had wanted to clean the GARAGE.

When we're vacationing in national parks, we're always on the lookout for wild animals. We've learned that the best way to find them is to find a place where cars are stopped along the side of the road, with people standing outside and pointing. Whenever we see a car stopped, one of us usually wonders aloud, "What's he see?"

On our recent visit to Yellowstone National Park, I spotted a car pulled over to the side and said, "What's he see?" Doug turned to me, surprise on his face, and said, "You saw a tepee?"

Doug is a self-proclaimed tightwad...he calls himself TW...but he can be very generous when the occasion calls for it. We were both single until we were in our forties. When we were dating, he lived about 65 miles from where I lived. One Saturday, he had invited me to a Christian concert in a city another thirty miles or so from his home. Because of the distance and the lateness of the hour by the time the concert would end, he wanted to pay for a motel room for me in the town where he lived. That would save him from having to drive the 130-mile round trip to take me home. Plus, we could go to his church together the next day. Well, he was already driving 65 miles to pick me up for our date, then about 95 miles to the concert, and I hated to have him also have to pay for a motel room for me. So, as we were driving to the concert, I suggested that the cost was too much to expect him to pay and that I'd like to pay for my own motel room. His response was, "I've had a long time to save up for it."

A few years ago, we drove a motor home to Alaska. It wasn't Doug's favorite vacation. We sold that motor home as soon as we got home from the trip. Since then, I've tried to talk him into buying another, more modern and powerful, one. It's not working.

Recently we were talking, and I was reminiscing about the two Doberman Pinschers that I had owned in the past, at different times. He said, "When I die, I suppose you'll get another Doberman." I said, "Yes...a Doberman and a motor home." Now, it's become a saying with us so that, whenever Doug does something that could be hazardous to his health, I make a reference to my getting a Doberman and a motor home.

Sometimes, often at the most unexpected times, Doug will come up with a comment that touches my heart. We were driving and talking and laughing awhile back, when he looked over at me and said, "I wish you could see what I see." Since my poor vision is often a subject of our conversations, it took me a minute to realize that he was complimenting me. He was saying that he liked what he saw in me and wished I could see it, too.

How could I NOT love a guy who would say something like that?! Wait! You don't think he was looking at my milk mustache or a smear of melted chocolate on my face, do you?