Have You Left Me Speechless?

Me getting gas:


BEEP (spoken so articulately).


"Oh yes," I respond. "Let me just get my card out right . . " ---BEEP.


"What? Oh. Oh, no thank you, you know - I might get a car wash next time - It's just that --" BEEP.


"Excuse me? Ahhh, sometimes I get to blabbing away . . you know! --But no, that's going to be all. I mean, I was thinking one of these days I might want to---" BEEP.


"Ooop, right again! Time to put the gas in. I know you're only trying to ---" BEEP.


"My card? Oh yes, my card (fumble, fumble) . . don't get mad now. I know it's here somewhere . . . No? You can't use that one? But it's always been--" BEEP, BEEP!


"Yep, my bad -- but if you'd just slow down for one second. My husband really wants me to use the account that--" BEEP.


"Okay. It's more than you want to know. I understand. I must be just burning your time up, right? And you're so important? You know I try to be nice,. You never give anything back. Never! . . . I'm only wondering, --has anyone ever just hauled off and gave you a--" GOOD-BYE!



Oh really? Like you're the only inanimate object in my life? I'm not so desperate you know.


"Come on," I say to my car. "We're leaving!"



At home I ask my mixer, "Please, just one more time. I know this is a big batch for you."
My toilet, "Stop running night and day! --There are people in China who have no water at all, you know."
Lawn mower, "You're not getting another nickel out of us."
Ice cream, "Yeah you're calling my name - but no ones listening, are they?!"
Chair, "You're my sweet little friend, you know that?"
Telephone, "You could try ringing when my hands aren't full of groceries. Ever think of that?!"
Dishwasher, "Oh what? We're not paying you enough? You don't even have a brain!"



"Who are you talking to?" My fourteen year old asks, when he walks in from school.

"Stop-it!" I say, to the washing machine behind me. "What do you mean?" I answer.

"Nevermind," he says, and walks away.


Stumped again. Am I supposed to read my kids minds, I wonder? Why can't he and I talk? Visit for a little while? We might learn something new about each other. And besides, frankly, I don't think these guys have a clue what it is I do all day.



I turn and whisper to the washing machine, "Well, maybe that's for the better. . . Don't you think?"