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It's not like we were hanging around in bars or going to sporting events or parties. We'd already done a lot of cutting back and had become accustomed to spending most of our days at the Casa de Ginley.
But I believe the closing of the libraries was a bridge too far for my other half. Aside from accusing the cat of threatening to rip out his throat with her "talons of steel," lately, he has taken to yelling at the television and his I-Pad. Well, okay, he's always done this to some extent, but lately it's been getting worse.
I'm learning how to cope.
For example, I've found it's best if we watch DVDs rather than live TV. This precludes having to sit through rants about the commercials. Permit me to share:
"What kind of parents are you, your kid fills up the sink to overflowing and you think that's cute? Now you're going to have to mop up that monsoon and hope you don't have to call a contractor to fix your ceiling. That kid is asking for a spanking."
"Who takes a dog to a car dealership? Leave your dog at home, what's wrong with you?!"
"Don't be stupid. Stop putting baby powder in your..."
Well, you get the idea.
Also, every time an ad comes on selling one of those "ask your doctor" medications, and they list all the symptoms, without fail, Mr. Ginley says, "I've got all that. I must have (fill in the disease/disorder)."
Worst of all is the news, which turns him into a fiery ball of frustration -- with politicians, meteorologists and vapid reporters.
Sometimes I laugh. Mostly I shrug and let him blow off steam.
It seemed like a good idea to air him out, so we went for a drive through the park. The skies were blue, the trees budding, Mother Nature in all her loveliness. What is there to kvetch about?
"Hey, Lance Armstrong, get out of the middle of the road."
"How come when I see a jogger, it's a dude, where are all the pretty girls?"
"Stop tailgating, Mario Andretti -- if you were in a hurry, you should have taken the freeway!"
And so it goes. The soundtrack of my life.
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