He stopped for a drink, and I told him if he said one more word about HVAC, I was going to beat him.
My husband and I had been married for more than ten years. I knew he was an HVAC technician. He was an HVAC technician when I met him, and he was still an HVAC technician. Everyone knew what he did for a living, because it was all he talked about. I hated to say it, but there were some things more important to talk about than HVAC. There was something I needed to tell him, but he wouldn’t shut up long enough for me to say anything. I was getting to where I wanted to gag him, tie him to the bed, and have a one-sided conversation with him when he couldn’t talk. We were sitting at the dinner table last week when he started droning on about his job again. He laughed every so often, but I didn’t hear a word he was saying. He offered me a glass of wine, and I declined. Normally he would say something when I say no to wine, but he was so into his story, it was like he didn’t even know I was there. I got up and went to the bathroom, and he smiled when I returned. He picked up with his story about his latest HVAC goofy story, and I rolled my eyes. He stopped for a drink, and I told him if he said one more word about HVAC, I was going to beat him. I had something to say. He told me all I had to do was say something. I shouted I was pregnant, which got me a kiss, but he went into a story about a pregnant woman who was having heat flashes.