Let the record show that I am not exactly thrilled to have Farmer H back home. Three days without him was relaxing. I don't begrudge his return to the Mansion, but I'm not planning a welcome party. Here's the thing. He's the same old Farmer H.
First of all, he's committed an infraction that will be revealed elsewhere, and I'm having trouble forgiving. It's something he's done before, and has been lectured on more than once. Okay. That really doesn't narrow it down. But I am not in the mood to discuss it at this sitting.
Here's the most recent transgression. The precipitating factor to my rant.
It's bad enough that Farmer H does not say what he means. It's TEN TIMES WORSE when he lectures me on "never understanding like a normal person." Sweet Gummi Mary! As IF Farmer H would have any inkling how a normal person's mind works!
I stood at the bottom of the stairs when he returned from the auction. He'd had time to stump around the bathroom, and crank back in his La-Z-Boy, and fiddle with the TV remote. I asked a simple question:
"Are you going to the auction tomorrow night?"
"I don't know."
"Well. I was asking, because I need to know what time you want supper."
"Okay. So you're not going to the auction, and you want supper at six."
"No. I'm going to the auction."
"So that means you'll LEAVE at six?"
"Yes. That's what I said."
"Actually, you said you wanted supper at six. That's why I asked. Because you usually want supper at 5:15 or 5:30, so you can be done and leave at 6:00."
"I don't know why you always go on like this. I can't tell you anything. You don't understand like a normal person!"
"Well, it's kind of hard to understand, because when I go by what you tell me, it's wrong. You don't say the facts. You say what you want, and I'm supposed to figure it out."
"You don't know how to listen!"
As you might imagine, I did not bother to ask what he wanted for supper.