I think most of you, dear readers, have lived with me or John or both of us at some point, so you know more or less what we do with our days. Basically, we stay at home a lot, and we do our fair share of watching tv and movies. So in some ways, moving to Chicago and living with John’s grandmother hasn’t changed our lives much. We spend a lot (I mean a lot) of time at home, and we still spend quite a bit of time parked in front of a screen. Other things have changed though; for instance, we don’t watch many shows made in the last thirty years. I’ve become a discerning fan of vintage television: M.A.S.H. and Cheers are reliable classics, The Odd Couple holds up pretty well, and Taxi is bearable if there is nothing else on, but All in the Family is utterly unwatchable. Unfortunately it’s the one show that John’s grandmother actually enjoys watching. I mean, she thinks it is laugh out loud funny. That could be because she’s hard of hearing, and it’s the only show where at least half of all the jokes are screamed instead of spoken.
John was once famous for sleeping away the morning, now he wakes up each morning no later than six thirty. You see, his grandmother likes to get up nice and early for breakfast so that she can be in the living room for a nine o’clock nap time. This means two things: John goes to bed early, sometimes earlier than me, and sometimes, every once in a while, John does not get enough sleep, and he is just the tiniest bit grumpy. Now, I’ve actually got grumpy covered for this relationship, and we can’t really have both of us walking around grumbling and snapping and muttering. Fortunately, John is so rarely in a bad mood that when he is, I’m shocked into my best behavior.
We spend a lot of time with our new roommate, and really she’s a pretty good one. There are a lot of very interesting stories to share. She does all the dishes after every meal. She only gets mad about two things, linty lint traps on the dryer and hair in the shower drain, both pretty reasonable complaints. So what, if there are more occasions for storytelling than there are stories for telling, or that the dishes take sooooo loooooong, or that she puts her pants on backwards every once in a while. Really, who doesn’t put theit pants on backwards sometimes?