William Southold | Opinion Columnist |The Southold Report
“Speaking fiction to power one story at a time.”
OK. I admit it. It was my idea to take our dog to therapy. It didn’t go well, as I had previously said, and we now await my wife’s arrival late Tuesday and a yet-to-be scheduled return to the scene of the crime, another therapy session. This one is for the three of us. I can tell now I’ve opened up a can of worms - Middie feels free to voice her opinion on everything.
“You’re going to sit there through another political show?” Middie asked me as she came into the TV room. “Jeez!”
“I have to keep up with what’s going on, what people are saying about it. It’s my job,” I told her. I was trying to watch Smerconish. Think of him what you will, he always let’s his guests have the last word, not a view shared by either Middie or my wife.
“The man never takes a break. One endless hour after another. Yabber, yabber, yabber”.
I didn’t even look at her. I could tell by her tone, that if she had arms to throw up in disgust, she would have.
“It pays for the roof over your head, it pays for your food,” I replied.
“Can’t wait until Mrs. S. gets home. At least she watches stuff worth watching.”
“One cooking show, or home fix-it show after another.” My words followed her out of the room.
“Don’t forget Hallmark,” I heard her say as she left. “I love Hallmark! Especially the mysteries!”
“Talk about endless.” I had to raise my voice, as my “companion” was now down the hall.
“At least she lets me sit with her!” Middie yelled. The “sit” word was particularly loud, and had a tinge of anger to it.
This is how it’s been going. One argument after another. I don’t know if I should welcome, or dread, the next appointment with the therapist. I know this is the wrong way to look at it, but it’s going to be 2, or perhaps 3, against one.
I’ve found it hard, now, to get my mind back on the world of politics, which is my usual realm. Oh well, I’ll let you know.
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Middie looking doubtful about what I'm preparing for dinner.
