Did you know it’s ten after seven already, she asked as she switched on the kitchen light. I was awake, barely, on the couch, but that’s another story.
Did your team win last night, she asked, feigning interest, a generosity.
They did, I mumbled, with a mixture of fatigue and nonchalance.
Well, that must make you happy, she chirped like some kind of little bird singing as it builds its nest, the kind I never know the name of. If I say sparrow, it’s probably really a junco or something. Her ornithology professor called them LBJ’s, little brown jobbies.
I’m not sure how to answer. From the opening tip-off, she is controlling the game. She has already scored a couple easy baskets before I even take the floor.
And don’t forget to get dog food, email those forms, and pay the credit card.