Conversations with Ourselves

I mentioned a few months ago how my husband and I consistently ended up shouting at one another just to be heard over the din of "LOOK AT ME, LOOK AT ME, LOOK AT ME!" that my toddlers put forth every time they see us attempting to converse.

We've moved on from that.

We no longer speak at all. It's too hard.

I've been solving this problem by holding conversations with my husband in my mind. I thought it was just me. Yesterday, though, I found out he does it, too.

There we were, seated across from one another at the breakfast table. I took a bite of my toast and glanced at my husband. At that exact moment, he gave an almost imperceptible nod to himself. I grinned.

"What are you thinking about?"

"What?"

"You're having a conversation with yourself. What's it about?"

And he proceeded to tell me what he was thinking about. Then he rushed off to work.

That evening, in a precious moment where the girls were distracted, he turned to me and said, "You know this morning, when you caught me thinking a conversation to myself?"

"Yeah."

"It's ironic because I was having a conversation with you."

I laughed. "I know."

"You know?"

"Yeah, I wouldn't have intruded on your personal thoughts. I could tell you were talking to me. I do it, too."

"You do?"

"Of course! How else am I going to talk to you?"

And we died laughing.

When you have toddler twins vying for your every attention, you do what you have to do. Talking is no longer an option, so we work around it.

The question that remains? How many of my husband's ideas has my imaginary self agreed to without my knowledge?