Talk to the hand

Early morning or late night person? At this age, my most sociable hours fall between eleven in the morning and two in the afternoon.

A friend shared a common story. She’s not an A.M. person either. Yesterday morning she woke up a little earlier than usual. It wasn’t the alarm clock nudging her out of bed, but rather an active bladder. Her husband misinterpreted a standing body. “Why don’t you stick a load of laundry in the washer before you leave for,,,”

Demonstrating her earlier reaction for us, Cindi, one of those fun people whose name ends in an “i,” uttered not a word. She spun around and shoved her hand forward to quash his absurd request. Her choreography was so spot on I figured she’d started out as an understudy for Diana Ross and her famous stop sign move. Undaunted, her husband had made attempt number two. “Why don’t you just throw the dirty clothes in a basket before you leave?”

The raised palm still faced him. Now the index finger on her hand shouted no-no with back and forth ticks like a metronome. “Okay,” he’d conceded, “how about I throw a load of laundry in the washer before I leave the house?”

Cindi showed us her next move — a big two thumbs up.

I know exactly how she felt. I’m not a morning person and my husband is. He awakens at five-thirty and chats the moment his eyes open.

“It’s too early to visit,” I’d declared many a time, squinting in the direction of the noise. “I don’t talk in the morning.”

He tried to be quiet, but it never lasted. I’d get up and fill the bathtub. I’d lean back in the warm water and close my eyes. This morning the reporter opened the door and barged in. He continued to speak.

I gave him the evil eye. “You don’t have to talk back,” he said.

“I don’t listen in the morning either.”

As far as I’m concerned, conversation is totally unnecessary before noon.