Conversations with my husband.

I used to have normal, nice, coupley conversations with my husband. About places we were going. Movies we wanted to see. A great bar that had opened that we absolutely HAD to try that Friday night. A saucy weekend away we were planning. I’m sure we will again, but for the moment our conversations look like these (a sample just from the previous week alone). We clearly need to get out more.

Me: “Okay boo-boo, how about some nom-noms? Would you like some yummy nom-noms?”
Mr Chick: “Yes please.”
Me (aghast): “Oh fuck. I cannot believe I just talked to you like you were the baby. What’s worse though is that you totally didn’t notice.”
Mr Chick: (equally aghast): “Omg.”

Me: “Did you not hear me calling you? I WAS CALLING YOU.”
Mr Chick: “No, I was playing my guitar, what happened?”
Me: “I was giving Charlie a bath and we had a Code Brown. In the bath-slash-kitchen-sink.”
Mr Chick: “Crap.”
Me: “Literally. It was pebble-like, though, so we’re good.”

Me: “What are the Teletubbies supposed to be?”
Mr Chick: “I don’t know. I think they’re English.”
Me: “I didn’t ask where they come from, I asked what they WERE. I mean, are they monsters?”
Mr Chick: “If you’re asking, you’re missing the point, don’t you think?”
Me: “Maybe you’re right.”
Mr Chick: “Who cares. Really, do you care what the Teletubbies are?”
Me: “Nah. Unless Charlie asks. And we won’t know.”
Mr Chick: “We’ll just make it up like other parents.”

Mr Chick: “Charlie’s doing his eye rubbing thing. Shall I put him to bed?”
Me: “Yes! Great. I’ve put the warm bottle and dummy on the bedhead, and remember the whole sequence, ok – you have to put the blind down slowly, while telling him you’re putting the blind down because it’s sleepy time. Then turn the rain app on, and turn the lights off and sit in the dark with him against one of the big pillows and give him the bottle and sing him a song. I always sing him Baa Baa Black Sheep or Incy Wincy Little Spider but whatever you think. Then as soon as the bottle’s done jam the dummy in and just hold him for a while til he’s very sleepy. Then you can try and put him down in the cot or on the bed if he won’t go in the cot and put pillows around him and lie down with him and stroke his hair and say ‘Shhh’ and ‘It’s sleepytime’ and he should go to sleep no problem.”
Mr Chick: “I got about half of that.”
Charlie: “Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!”
Me: “Oh whatever. Just give him a bottle.”

Do you have these kinds of conversations at your place? I hope so, because reading over them makes me feel like all the braincells got up out of my head and moved to another country.