The Quiet is Killing Me

My husband asked this morning if he wanted to come home and read this evening without the television on would that be okay with me.
“Sure!” I responded happily, finding myself wishing we didn’t have tv at times. But, I didn’t know I was going to be in a chatty mood.

I’m the kid who got “talks too much” on each and every report card each and every year. Year in and year out. No matter how many spankings I got for it, no matter how many times my dad told me I was in school to learn, not to talk, I still talked. It just happened. My mouth would open and the words poured out. What could I do?

My poor husband has probably been trying to read the same sentence over and over. That’s so frustrating. At least I know it is for me. But, my Stephen has the added problem of the dogs-every dog we have barking. Then, I’m hollering at the dogs to hush. All the while trying to produce the quiet he deserves. The poor man doesn’t ask for much.

I am, then, trying to concentrate on writing. After I finish this brief missive, I’ll go on to write more of my book,”Tales from the Ass Farmer’s Wife.” Oh heck! now he’s rattling on. I guess he gave up after all this- that’s what usually happens here! What a hoot!

someone like my husband trying to read their Bible too!
someone like my husband trying to read their Bible too!
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