Wednesday, August 04, 2010
Lillian has reached the age of idle prattle. She's been here for a while, but it seems to be reaching some sort of fever pitch.
Last night, I was trying to watch the last 5 minutes of Plain Jane, a show I had not so much as heard of 30 minutes prior, where they take shy, plain women and teach them how to flirt and be assertive and pluck their eyebrows in order to help them get the guy. We were at the getting the guy part: the exciting, dramatic part, and Lillian starts up with her chatter.
"Lillian, be quiet for just a minute, I'm trying to watch this."
"I have to be quiet, or Nora?"
"You, be quiet for just a second."
"You're watching this?"
"Yes, I'm watching this and you keep talking. Be quiet."
"What is this show?"
"It's my show. Shhhhhh."
"It's a quiet show?"
"Lillian, stop talking."
"Can I use a whisper voice?"
"Sure, how about you whisper in the other room?"
She did this for the last five dramatic, guy getting minutes. Solid. No let up.
Actually, she does this all day long. Solid. No let up. My mom pointed out that it's not so much that she talks and talks and talks. It's that she expects you to answer. Every. Time. And there is much distress if you ignore her, or, heaven forbid, you're in the bathroom, or trying to sleep, or on the phone.
I like her though. Don't let my irritation fool you.