I spoke to my parents on the phone the other day, just checking in and seeing how they are. During the phone call they had an argument, nothing big, just a crabby moment between the two of them. I can imagine the aches and pains of old joints and brittle bones can get discouraging to say the least.
Mom was asking Dad a question, Dad being deaf couldn't hear her and gave his usual "Hm?" But mom was convinced he was faking, that he just didn't feel like answering her. She said to me on the phone, "He's mad because I talked while the Olympics were on. "For God sakes," She declared. "He can watch them anytime."
I heard my dad respond from his prized green electronic lazy boy, "They only come every four years, Dorth."
"See!" she yelled. "You can too hear, you big faker."
What she said next didn't surprise me. It's the way they communicate, I'm used to it. I knew they would making up as soon as I got off the phone. "I don't think I want to spend eternity with you after all," my mother declared. "65 years is enough. I'm taking Heidi's ashes and we're getting our own Urn and you can be in your own box by yourself."
My dad sighed before saying, "At least it will be quiet."