EASY TO LIVE WITH

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I am a big fan of “This American Life” with Ira Glass. The last episode I listened to presented a startling statistic, which I am sure that I am misquoting: about ninety percent of people, when you ask them if they think they are easy to live with, will answer with a resounding YES.

Naturally, the people are wrong, because according to the expert that Ira was chatting with (all I can remember about him was that he had a British accent) was that there may be only two or three people ON EARTH who are easy to live with. Ha! Of course, I am one of them. No, really.

I mentioned this to my husband–the statistic, not the fact that I am in the distinct minority on the planet. He didn’t even raise his eyebrows. It was as if I had just told him that the man on the podcast declared that sugar is sweet. So I pursued this. Not the best idea.

ME: You aren’t surprised?

HIM: Of course not. If people actually realized what jerks we all are, nobody would ever get married, and there would be a huge population decrease. Wait. I take that back. The population would be the same, but nobody would be married. Everyone would be looking for studio apartments.

ME: What do you mean? I am easy to live with. You are the one.

HIM: I have never thrown a tantrum about cat vomit.

ME: But that is understandable. I, on the other hand, don’t file my nails in bed. Or wait until I look like Albert Einstein before I get my hair cut.

HIM: If you want a list of your faults, I will be glad to draw one up. You think you are easy to live with because I make it look easy. You know, like making sure the deck gets swept once a week in the summer so that the neighbors won’t think we are “hillbillies.”

ME: That is a low blow. Just because I grew up in West Virginia. What about the fact that I no longer kick you under the table when you ask the waitress if she is “the chef?” Or ask for a doggy bag when your plate is empty? As if the wait staff in every restaurant has never heard those? Sheesh.

HIM: I am not the one who got four cats. Let’s revisit the barf.

ME: Everyone knows that having pets lengthens one’s life. My blood pressure is lower because of all the purring, I am sure of it.

HIM: I bet it goes up when you step in the vomit. Your decibel level surely does.

ME:

You know, that Ira Glass is absolutely brilliant. He has the very best pundits.

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