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Tuesday, September 22, 2015

I'm blaming Siri and the Fitbits.

Good afternoon all!

They say couples start to drift apart after the kids have grown and moved away. They say couples realize they really don't have anything to talk about once the kids are out of the house.  And they say that as couples are together longer they touch each other less.

Yeah, all that's happening and it has nothing to do with our age or the kids.

If Hubby and I get married (and it's doubtful since we've been married for 25 years and were together for more than 4 years before that. Basically I was an infant when we met and started dating.) I'll have Siri and our FitBits to blame.


It actually started with the FitBits.  Shortly before Hubby left for Colorado for two weeks, I got us these lovely little wristwatchy things that measure our steps and our calories burned. I'm sort of addicted to checking my stats against those in my friend circle.  (I don't do all that well against two waitresses and the librarian who walks her dog six times a day.)  

When Hubby got home from his two week trip we had a very nice dinner and then a romantic walk along the river in the evening. It was then that I realized there was a problem with our romantic walk. There would be no hand holding.  

See, I wear my FitBit on my left wrist as many people do because you're sort of supposed to wear it on your non dominant hand.  (Fewer "fake" calories burned or something.)  Any, Hubby also wears his on his left hand.  If we hold hands, one of us isn't going to be able to swing our arm freely thereby getting the FitBit to measure each and every one of our steps.

And thusly, we've started to stop touching each other. That can't end well.

Nothing, you preposition dangling home-wrecker.
But the conversation thing was not something I saw coming. Hubby and I used to be able to talk, and pretty much debate, about anything.  And I mean anything.  Our most famous debate was, "Do trees talk to each other?"  (I said yes, Hubby said no, and I count this as a win for me, thank you Peter Jackson, JRR Tolkien, and those magnificent ENTS of yours.)  Our debates would go for days, years, rarely reaching a resolution.  But we always had something to talk about, sort of like when sportscasters go back to "Should Pete Rose be in the Hall of Fame?" when they have nothing else to talk about.

Well, enter Siri.  Siri, the oh so helpful little automated hag on my husband's work phone.  Sure,
we've settled some debates recently by using the "brain" which is what we call the Internet on our phones, but Siri has a voice.  You don't have to type anything into Siri, you just have to ask her.

So the other night we were walking home from choir practice or something at church, not holding hands because, you know, steps on the FitBit, and I asked Hubby a question. Doesn't matter what it was. He didn't know the answer. And instead of saying something ridiculous and hoping I'd buy it, which has been his thing for most of the 30 years we've been together, he said, "I don't know. Ask Siri."

End of conversation.

End all conversations?

Well, let the record show, if our marriage dissolves, it had nothing to do with us or money or the children, and everything to do with Siri and the FitBits. 


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