Granted, I have been markedly under the weather for several days now. Something to do with this stomach virus running rampant through our human ranks. Perhaps I am a bit fuzzy in the head. I admit that. But is it really all me?
"Uncle Mo has gastrointestinal illness," my husband announced from the kitchen while I was struggling to make the bed this morning, still woozy and somewhat drained from my own bout with that same illness.
Who is Uncle Mo? I thought. Poor guy. I would wouldn't wish this on anyone, much less some distant family member of my husband. He repeated what he said, having not heard a response from me.
Finally, I walked toward him and flatly asked, whom he was talking about. "A horse in the Kentucky Derby. Don't you remember? We were just talking about him," he said. No, we were not. This was another example of his use of non sequiturs.
"Just" is a relative word. For my husband, "just" can apply to a period of time extending anywhere from minutes ago to sometime last year. Yes, we had been offhandedly discussing the race during a brief moment an hour before, when we were both reading the newspaper. I tend to half listen to these conversations because I lost my ability to do two things at once when I started the phase of my life sweetly known as "the change." I am lucky if I can focus on one thing for more than several minutes. I vaguely recalled him mentioning several names of horses, but honestly thought when he said Uncle Mo, he was referring to his uncle or a local restaurant whose owner had the stomach flu.
Like my son, my husband has a tendency to have internal conversations in his head that he thinks everyone is privy to. So when these things pop out of his mouth with no prior prompting or transition, he wonders why I am not keeping up. He is honestly bewildered because to him it makes complete sense.
Uncle Mo has a gastrointestinal illness. Now you know.
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