Current state: watching Peaky Blinders with Bruce. We have to squeeze it in before Carson reruns at 10 pm. He watches Carson every evening and comes into the sunroom where I'm having "Becky time" and tell me every joke. I've already heard him laughing with his very loud laugh in the living room. On my kindest days, I thank god holy moley, he's so enthusiastic and outgoing and chatty---I mean that's lucky.
BUT it really GRATES on my nerves. So, instead, we're watching Peaky Blinders.
Except now. It's 954 and Carson comes on at 10, and Dad wants to get ahead of Carson. "Whup! We gotta switch it". He fumbles with the remote, switching it from streaming to live tv.
"A lot of work to do"
He gets up, and has his snack of fruit salad, whipped cream and is dying to tell me how much he weighs or doesn't weigh (I never bite).
I yell "You're missing it"
"No I'm not, timing is everything". He talks the tv off of mute.
"Oh my fire is, well, it's almost time to go to bed anyway." He stokes the fire. Earlier in the day he had been chopping wood while I was on a work call.
"Let's see what year it is. Oh, 1982. That's 40 years ago and hard to believe"
He settles in and tries to get me to laugh along and enjoy it. I don't play along but am still here typing.
Poor Dad, he almost always wants to chat, have fun and it drives me into my little introvert shell.
Even now, as I type away, and look at the results, he laughs at Johnny's monologue and leans into bring me in on the joke.
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