where i try to explain how stupid one man can be

where i try to explain how stupid one man can be

*Also, I've decided to start naming my posts with the 'major push of the piece'. I'm practicing my elevator pitch. You know, in case some famous literary person happens upon my blog and decides to print it verbatim because I hate editing and I refuse to rewrite and I don't care if I make sense to a random person trying to exploit my suffering for their amusement and the run on and incomplete sentences bother me not so much. So, the posts will be named for clarity and so you don't by mistake read about the miracle of NOT having hemorrhoids or when I talk about how weird it is that I get bumps on my fingers for no reason. Yeah, so you don't have to read something you're not interested in. So, yeah, again, for clarity's sake.

I was rushing about trying to get to Vermont on time to see my darlingest ever goddaughter graduate from 8th grade. I got her a little Coach clutch because she's getting too big to be my little clutch and I always want to feel like I'm close to her.

So, I'm running around and Bear offers to help with my 'to-do' list so I can just get going. Here is our conversation:

me: B, can you go to the bank and deposit this check and put cash in for the Little Gym?

bear: How about if I just go to the Little Gym and sign her up directly. That way you won't have to worry about it.

me: That would be great. Thanks so much! Remember what we talked about? She's ready for the next level but if you want to go with her on Saturday mornings, then she should stay in the parent/child class. It's not like she's overly prepared for the transition but either way... So, if you want to take on getting her to class and having time with her on Saturday mornings that's fine. Otherwise, sign her up for the next level either Tuesdays or Fridays. And the cutoff for the prepay discount is Friday. K?

bear: Oh yeah, I gotcha.

cut to Thursday evening's check-in phone call ...

me: So, did you sign her up?

bear: Yeah, I did, but the kid thinks it might be confusing for her.

me: What kid?

bear: Mr. Timmy. He helped me figure out which classes. And I thought you said it was going to be $XXX but it's not.

me: Classes?

bear: Yeah. I was going to sign her up for Saturdays with me and Tuesdays with you but Mr. Timmy said that might be confusing but then again, it might *not* be confusing and probably whatever you had suggested was the right thing to do. But I wasn't sure why it would be a different price so we both decided not to sign her up for two classes. With the confusion, you know ... about parent / no parent ...

me: I suggested either OR. The problem is that you don't listen to me.

bear: Hey, I do too listen to you. And I'm just trying to help.

me: How is it helpful if you've been all the way to Little Gym, haven't signed her up for anything, and the prepay discount ends tomorrow - before I can get back? Did you put the cash in my account so I can just call them and do it myself?

bear: Of course not. You said to pay the Little Gym.

...

The crux of the matter is that he doesn't listen to me. He watches me talk, nods where he thinks he should, and continues to think about why cars don't fly and how come cilantro tastes bad and whatever else his head is doing while he's letting my words wash over him like a meandering stream. So, technically, because my words have entered his ears at a time when we were both in the room, he will not admit he wasn't listening.

Seriously though? I asked what kind of sense did it make to sign up a kid for an 'up and down' like that? 'Up and down?' he says. 'Yah,' I tell him, 'like a sports contract. Up and down? Majors and minors?!'.

So, again he's listening but not getting a take-away.

Unless I can learn to think only as an ADD brilliant scientist who abhors organized sports and common sense, we're doomed to these arguments ...