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| A rare shot at the inside of my brain, |
Poor Bill. He is the captive audience for my words. The other night I came home and talked at him until he went completely mute and dead eyed. It didn't stop me. I had more things to tell. He even mentioned that he was talked out, so I prefaced the next ten things I had to say with "Just one more thing..." This is kind of ironic because I have a kid at work who talks and talks and talks at me until I am exhausted. I have tried to convey to him that when the other person in the conversation stops making eye contact and answers in monosyllabic grunts that it is probably time to wrap up the chit chat. (this is a little part of my job I like to call "Life Lessons with Mrs. McMahon) However, what did I do when Bill shut me down like this? I continued to unleash my tsunami of words upon him. I drown the man in my words until he completely stopped trying to tread water and let them crash over and drown him. He went to the gym to escape me, but that was okay. I got a good night's rest and had plenty of meaningful words to share with him over coffee the next morning.
One of the neat features of blogger is that you can see how many people read your blogs, how they access your blog and where in the world they are reading it from. I am very popular in the Ukraine. And by popular I mean that at least ten people a month in the Ukraine find themselves on my little blog. Bill suggested this morning that maybe I should share my words with my friends in the Ukraine; they might be more receptive. This may have hurt a less-worded person, but I saw the brilliance in it and not the dig.
I have always gotten in trouble for my excessive use of words. "Too talkative in class", "Disruptive in class", "Won't shut up during class", etc. As an adult, I received a coach and counseling for purple fonting and CAPITALIZING my words in emails. I just can't help it. I think in words, the words I hear people say show up as printed and sometimes BOLD-faced across my brain like the stock market ticker. I think this may be why I am struggling with finding good books to read lately. My brain is so full of words I have no room for other people's words. Bill says maybe this means I should write a book. I am not sure he means that, I think he is looking for a landfill for me to dump my words into instead of his ears.
I really do understand how he feels. Our kids can both talk the ears off of a duck. They are not looking to make conversation, they are looking to talk. I am listening to the boy explain how to play Yu-Gi-Oh to my mother and thanking God she is here to absorb these words instead of me. I understand trying to deflect and dodge the onslaught of words but even knowing his pain, I just can't stop.
Lucky for everyone my mom is here for the week. I get my love of words from her. She loves words and talking and books and reading and has been locked up in a Buffalo winter with my dad who can be a selective mute. She is ready for my words. She will listen to all of my words and add her own words and she will deflect the Yu-Gi-Oh words from the boy and the woes of middle school life from SG and our house will just be awash in words. Words in the morning and at night and if we run out of words we will play Scrabble and make words! Words will be stretched out on the floor like rugs and hang from the ceiling and drip from each faucet. They will be waiting when you turn a corner or wake up from a nap and they will bounce off the dogs and people and surround us like long-lost friends. Forget Disney! My word-filled house will be the happiest place on earth!
I imagine that Bill might have to work late or go to the gym each night while the words swirl like tornadoes throughout the house. That's okay because after a word-filled week with Mom, my own words might be used up for awhile. I know that is the hope that keeps him going. Personally, I know that my words will never be all used up but I don't want to dash his hopes. I will just talk that hope out of him one word at a time.
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