It's me, isn't it?

Do you remember a few months ago when Patty from Pennsylvania suggested not everyone understood what I was talking about? I am too lazy to find the link. You'll have to trust me. I agreed and then didn't think too much about it.

I'm starting to now.

A couple of weeks ago beloved friend Rita and I had a very confusing conversation about Aunt Flo. You and I shall not go into it now in mixed company. Again, I didn't think too much about this.

On Sunday, I approached little teacher friend Judy with this opener, "So you're back to school this week." And she replied, "Not this year." To which I said, "Oh, are you substituting?" To which she said, "I've had the same teaching job for three years." We went around a couple of more times until it became clear that I meant she was "going back to school" to teach, and she meant she was not "going back to school" herself.

Okay, well, that could have happened to anybody. Then last night I say to my dearest husband of 15 years. My life partner. My soul mate:

I need to buy a button. Seemed simple enough to me.

"What?" He said.
A button.

"A what?"
A button. I need to buy a button.

"Why?
What do you mean? I need to hold up my pants.

"What does that mean?"
What do you mean, "What does that mean?" My button has broken. I need to replace it so my pants will stay up.

"So you need an actual button to hold up your actual pants?"
I . . . yes!!

Friends and loved ones, do I speak so abstractly that even my own husband does not know when I need to do a minor sewing repair job?


Let me make it very clear. That was a rhetorical question.