You know those people that will be telling you a story about people you have never and will never meet but, for some reason, they feel compelled to derail from the point of their story to fill you in on the entire life story of every total stranger that has a supporting role in their story? That person is my husband.
Last week, my husband came home from watching a football game and was excited to inform me that he had won a little cash on the game. I was completely satisfied with that amount of information. It was good news, no more details necessary. So, I have no idea why my husband deemed it necessary to elaborate any further but he did. He went on to begin explaining the details of the bet and why he won–some crap about “the spread”. You would think my blank stare would suffice in making him realize he was talking to the wrong person but NO. He just kept on about some play and some player that almost cost him the money and more crap about the spread. Finally, I stopped him and reminded him that I don’t follow football and I had no idea what he was talking about but, hey, YEAH to winning money. You would think the man didn’t know me at all or had not spent the last 11 years with me because he began explaining these details and concepts to me. Pan to me, wearing the same blank stare. I stopped him again and told him that not only did I not know what he was talking about with all this football crap but, furthermore, I didn’t care. Not even a teeny, tiny bit. He looked at me, a bit stunned and then began trying to break it down even further. When I stopped him, AGAIN (Seriously–11 years), I reiterated that I didn’t understand all the rules, details and jargon because I don’t care to understand any of it, not because it has never been effectively explained to me. I told him it would be similar to me explaining to him why some of my shoes could be worn with jeans or a dress and others were not so versatile. My point was made and we both moved on. I give it one month before we have the exact same conversation because, believe it or not, this conversation has taken place countless times. The details may change but the story is all the same.
The hubs is a crane operator and will often try to tell me stories about the job. I try sooooo hard to feign interest. I do. It just never fails, though, that he will get sidetracked from telling the story to explain to me the logistics of some piece of machinery or the inner workings of some generator and I just can’t keep up the charade. 
I don’t know how a generator works or why X,Y,Z would cause it to malfunction or explode. More importantly, though, I DON’T CARE! Bless his heart, though, he thinks I do. Well, at least until I tell him that I don’t. I think I am going to start explaining to him why I put my make up on in the order that I do.
He is lucky I love him. Most of the time.
