He said: You were up awfully late last night.
I heard: What the hell were you doing on the computer until all wee hours of the morning?
He said: Really? A new web site? That sounds exciting.
I heard: Oh, great. Another freakin’ techno-geek project that she’s not going to be able to figure out and then I’ll have to listen to her bitch and moan about how it’s not working and how she despises technology but can’t live without it and I’ll have to pretend to be all sympathetic and act like I really care when really I'd rather puncture my own ear drums with dull butter knives.
He said: Well, if you like Caringbridge, why not just stay there?
I heard: Oh, for Pete’s sake, if it’s not broken, don’t fix it!
He said: Well, I can understand why you might feel that way, now that Kendrie is done with her treatment.
I heard: What? *MY* cancer experience isn’t worthy of Caringbridge to you?
He said: No, actually, I can’t think of anyone in the tech support department at work who might know about setting up a personal blog.
I heard: Blogger? WordPress? Typepad? You have not a single clue what you’re doing, woman, and don’t even try to drag my innocent, technologically-superior co-workers into the mess you are about to make.
He said: Do you think people would read a new blog?
I heard: What on earth makes you think anyone gives a flying rats ass about what you have to say?
He said: Well, I’m sure you’ll get it all figured out.
I heard: This conversation is boring me. Move on.
***This is why you should never attempt a logical conversation with your husband when you are already annoyed at him for some reason you totally can’t remember, but which you know was COMPLETELY his fault.