Don’t you just hate people who go on and on about nothing in particular.  My wife is one of these people and while I obviously don’t hate her she does tend to drive me nuts sometimes with her incessant talking.

She seems to get worse when she has been out with her friends or her sisters.  She comes home and finds me in the house to tell me everything she thinks I want to know.  And if I am fortunate enough to be at work when she arrives home, she will either ring me or be waiting at the door when I get in.

I have learned to switch off now when she starts because I just can’t cope with it any longer.  What is wrong with women?  Do they really think that men want to hear all about Ellie down the street or Gillian from the golf club?  These things may be important to her but to me it’s like enough already!

When we first got together I used to try to show some interest but my replies usually weren’t the replies she was hoping for and then she used to get mad at me.  So now I just nod and agree with whatever she says.

I even bought myself a patch which I found online after one of her hour long rants.  The And You Are Telling Me This Because? Patch made me feel better because it was just how I felt at the time.  I really wanted to say it to her but past experiences had taught me better.

I had once said to her that I didn’t really give a crap about the girls from the book club and what they got up to and to say that went down like a lead balloon is an understatement.  She accused me of not taking an interest in things which she cares about and called me selfish and uncaring.  Bit of an over-reaction if you ask me but the silent treatment and lack of dinners for about three days led me to think before I open my mouth again!

I now get my feelings across on my biker vest.  I throw it on when I need to get some space to clear my head and I hop on my motorcycle to get out of the house for a while.  Instead of saying what I feel to my wife now, I just buy embroidered patches for my vest instead.  I bought the You’ve Obviously Mistaken Me For Someone Who Cares Patch after she spent an hour telling me about how Caroline from the store down town had called Marie from the café a lazy, fat, slut.  The fact that I even remember the details still astounds me but that was a particularly long rant and she must have mentioned their names at least a hundred times each so they have become embedded in my brain.

So now you can probably understand why riding around on my bike is such a pleasure!