Being on the Same Page

               Today my sweet husband informed me that lately he didn’t think we were on the “same page,” communication-wise.  What?  Not on the same page?  I have no idea what he’s talking about!

               Well, okay, I have a smidgeon of an idea what he means.  Just a glimmer, really. 

               It all started last week over breakfast.  We typically play along with a TV game show called “25 words or less” during breakfast.  We mute the sound and give each other clues as we play – trying to beat the contestants.

               Typically, we are really good at this game.  After all, 40 years of shared experiences gives us a lot of history from which to draw clues.  But last week, I struggled.  My struggles had nothing to do with our shared experiences, it had to do with my word choices, and my guesses, both of which were poor.

               For example, I was trying to get him to say the word “hem.”  My clue was “heighten your pants.” I realize that “heighten” is not, perhaps, as descriptive or accurate as “shorten.” But I didn’t, in the heat of game play, come up with the correct word.  So, he never did guess it correctly.  I think he had pictured a man hiking his pants up to his armpits and didn’t know the word for that.  (Neither do I, but it’s almost always funny.)

               Later, he was giving me clues and said “blank and blood.” Clearly, this is an oft-used expression and the correct word is “flesh.” I didn’t find that word in my head.  I said, “sweat,” “tears,” “platelets,”  “vampires,” and a few other words.  Even when he added “body tissue” as a hint, I was empty.

               Then (this is all the same game, so yeah, not on the same page at all), I had to get him to say the word “swipe.” So I said “Tinder! Blank right.” Which might have been an awesome clue for anyone who uses Tindr, or has heard of Tindr, or who watches Lifetime romance movies.  None of these things are pertinent to my husband.  He didn’t get it.

               So, okay, maybe this past week, our shared history and many experiences weren’t helpful in the word game, but to say we’re not on the same page seemed a bit extreme to me. Until the dog food incident.

               You see, our beloved dog is getting picky in his old age.  The vet recommended a special food, which we bought (after taking out a small loan) and he hated.  I thought maybe he was tired of chewing up the dry food mix that he’s eaten well for 12 years, so I started buying pouches of soft food.  He liked that okay, for a while, but wasn’t eating well.  So, we bought a bag of his old food, figuring maybe he liked that best.

               The back-up bag of his normal food was in the garage.  Also in the garage were two boxes of the pouch food.  In the mudroom closet, next to where we feed our pooch sits an open box of pouches and a bag with the half-used vet-recommended food.

               Typically, my husband feeds the dog.  This morning, I fed him and without thinking, I scooped out a cup of the vet-recommended stuff.  The dog ate it, and I noticed the bag getting low.

               So on the way to the car, I mentioned that the dog food was low.  As we walked into the garage, my husband said, “No, we have extra boxes right there.” He pointed (I assume) towards the two boxes of pouches.  I thought he was pointing to the big bag and I said “I thought he wasn’t eating that.”

               Afterward followed a dialogue reminiscent of Abbott and Costello about which food the dog was actually eating now.  I was confused because he ate the vet food today, but apparently hasn’t been.  I also didn’t know the name brand of the pouches, which turns out to be the same name brand as the old dry food.  So we went back and forth arguing about this dog food for about five minutes and finally gave it up.

               So, he’s right.  Sometimes we’re not on the same page.  But it’s really the dog’s fault.