I read this blurb on Facebook that read: ‘Talking to yourself and answering is ok, the problem is when you ask yourself to repeat it.’ In other words, if you carry on a conversation with yourself in your mind, you’re ok. But if you ask yourself, “What?” there’s a problem.
A while later as Seamus sat in front of me, staring at me with his head cocked, ears perked up (a tell-tale sign a Brittany has something on his mind) with eyes following my every move, I began talking to him. I wasn’t just making comments, I was answering for him … based on our years of communicating. He was waiting for me to fix breakfast, and that means bacon.
When I finally got up and headed for the kitchen, Seamus beat me into the room, taking his usual place next to the stove, just far enough back so he could see everything I was doing, to include putting bacon into the pan.
While going through the motions, I realized I was still talking to him and when I looked at him, he twitch and re-position himself as to say, “Get on with it.” To which of course, I answered, “Don’t be so pushy, it’s coming.”
The part that made me think about the blurb on Facebook was when I’d ask him, “What?” because I wasn’t sure if he was trying to tell me to add another slice or turn up the heat.
I think I have to stop reading these little witticisms, sometimes they cause me to out think myself.