Some months back Peter came home and almost studiously repeated what a coworker had said to him. That women have a bucket of 1000 words we need to unload everyday. He strode purposely to the couch. Twelve tired hours from the time he’d left home, my husband reposed and braced himself, inviting me to pour my bucket over him.
Addendum on April 20, 2013:
I’ve gotten annoyed when Peter would interject while I was midsentence. He explained today that he’s not interrupting, at least not intentionally. According to my husband, when I speak, I do so in chapters. The human audio book he calls Wife prompts a thought in his head and by the time he’s caught a break in the stream, it’s been ten pages. And he’s forgotten what he’d wanted to share.