Conversations With Denis

If you read yesterday’s post and subsequent comments about Denis’ non-participation at Cootiehog, you’d know that Denis has claimed that I’m all but forcing him into not participate anymore.

Well, I could go on and on about how that is NOT true, and that he DID tell me that he didn’t feel like participating anymore. Instead I’ll relay nearly word-for-word a conversation we had last night. Then tell me if you think I may have misconstrued something Denis said.

Last night we got home from work. Let me add right here that we don’t park our car in the garage – we park it in the driveway. Once inside, Denis went out the backdoor of the house to take out the trash from the kitchen. A few minutes later I hear him fiddling with the door that enters the house from the garage. I asked him, “Why are you coming in that way instead of the backdoor?” Here is the conversation that followed:

Him: I had to close the garage door.

Me: *confused* Why was the garage door open?

Him: Oh, Chris is visiting Don and Lydia next door.

Me: *confused again* Why would that require you to open the garage door?

Him: Oh, he was telling me how he was working on a house down the street.

Me: *still confused* And WHY would that require you to open the garage door?

Him: Oh, I asked him if he was hanging Christmas lights.

Me: *it finally hits me* Oh, so you opened the garage so that you could turn on the Christmas lights we just put up.

Him: Yeah *he says, in a tone that implies I’m an imbecile*

Me: Why didn’t you say that in the first place?

Him: I did.

Me: No, you made me play 20 questions.

Him: I could have told you to mind your business.

Me: All you had to say was “I opened the garage door to turn on the Xmas lights for Chris, who is visiting Don and Lydia tonight.” Then we could have avoided this whole conversation.

Him: Again, I should have just told you to mind your business like you would have told me had I asked.

Me: No I wouldn’t! I would have told you in one sentence that Chris wanted to see the Christmas lights!

Him: Whatever.

So there you have it. This is how Denis and I communicate 95% of the time. Dazzling, isn’t it?

My Signature


  1. *ahem*

    I’m not so sure I want to get involved in this “discussion,” however I have one point to make.

    I have been witness to several conversations of this ilk and I have to agree with Jane on this one. There have been times when it seems like Denis may have thought he said something but he really didn’t.

    May I remind you of the day I flipped out in your car because of a similar communication gap? *laugh* That seems to be the problem here…

  2. I think the problem here is that Jane is putting words into my mouth and neither of us listens to each other half the time.

    As for the car incident, you absolutely said what you said and Jane and I know that. You were upset because we wouldn’t let it drop (particularly me). But we’re over that now. Just don’t try giving us directions. *lol*

  3. I swear my husband I and do the same thing. I think he thinks I should read his mind or “just know.” I probably do the same thing though.

  4. Nina, it’s not so much a case of reading minds, as much as listening to words. I think people hear all the words (or maybe don’t) but make different sense out of them than what is intended. Just because we use the same words, doesn’t mean we speak the same language. And I think that is what is going on with Jane and I.

    As for the garage incident, I was purposely extending the telling of that tale to make it suspenseful.

  5. *lol* Denis, there’s no suspense in raising a garage door. There’s suspense in saving a child from a well, but not raising a garage door.

  6. See, you might have missed the point of the story again. The key was turning on the Christmas lights for Chris, not opening the garage door. *lol*

  7. *rotflmao*

    Denis, you not letting my directions thing go was later. The whole blowout started b/c I only gave half the directions verbally…the front half never emerged from my mouth. Much like your lights-garage door story.

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