"Here's the thing I hate about you most: you are so inconsiderate."
I mulled over this remark. I figured that I had done something inconsiderate. Otherwise I couldn't think of any other reason that she would call me inconsiderate. Probably I was pretending to listen to my wife when, in fact, I was thinking about myself, which is my favorite topic, as I have made abundantly clear. ("That's no fucking secret," SuperK told me when I admitted this once).
"You just said that people like me," I pointed out. I heard that. I hear compliments. It makes me think of my grandfather who was hard of hearing unless he wanted to hear something.
"They don't know you like I know you," she replied, which is pretty true. She knows me quite well.
"That's not true," I defended myself. "Some of them know me pretty well."
"They don't have to live with you," she said. I don't know how she does it, to be honest with you.
I wasn't going to win this argument.
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