It started after I checked Facebook this morning. She was emptying the dishwasher and I joined her in putting things away. Cheerily, I thought, I began reporting on various recent status updates on Facebook:
Me: Margo posted a lovely photo from the waterside on Key West. Phoebe keeps having nightmares about spiders.
She: Phoebe’s having nightmares about spies? [This is such a typical hard-of-hearing interchange between two seniors, you wouldn’t believe it.]
Me: Not spies, SPI-DERS. That’s one thing I love about Virginia. We don’t have many bu--
She: Don’t even say the bug word! Stop! Right now!
Me: Well, we do have nasty-looking crickets. I always thought crickets were cute little guys named Jiminy who hung out on the hearth.
She: Stop talking about it! (Hurries from room.) (Calls to me over shoulder:) I mean it! Next thing you know, we’ll have some giant hideous critter stalking us in the hall!
Peace was restored later in the day: