Thursday Th(ink)s - June 11, 2026

Oh that Thursday!

Here it is again, like an old comfortable sweater that doesn’t realize it’s summer.

I know it means well.

It’s familiar. Dependable. Comfortable.

But there it is, showing up with all its extra layers, insisting we have another conversation about things we’d rather not discuss.

Things like hearing.

Or not hearing.

Or hearing something entirely different than what was said.

In our Thursday years, entire conversations can be built on the shaky foundation of, “That’s not what I thought you said.”

It seems that getting old is simply a series of questions and statements repeated as though they own infinity:

Could you repeat that, please?

I’m not quite understanding.

Could you say that again?

So, you’re saying if I...

One more time?

Which is how Hubs recently found himself on the phone with the telephone company while Siri and I formed an unexpected friendship.

As the familiar questions began arriving at a slightly alarming rate, I wandered over and sat beside him so I could see the computer screen and help locate whatever information Mr. Very-Patient-Telephone-Man was trying to direct him toward.

At one point the conversation went like this:

Mr. Man: “Sir, it’s the number at the bottom left of your screen.”

Hubs: “I’m not quite finding it.”

Mr. Man: “That’s okay, Sir. Take your time.”

Then, as if it isn’t hard enough for Hubs to live with me, his one and only woman, Siri, decided her help was needed.

She lit up, all orange and eager, and offered her oh-so-helpful contribution:

Siri: “I didn’t understand that. Could you repeat that, please?”

I spun around, abandoned Hubs, crossed the four steps to where Siri sat glowing on the counter, and whispered none too kindly:

Me: “Be quiet.”

I carefully retreated and returned to Hubs.

Siri: “I believe I can help you with that.”

I spun around again, as if yesterday’s hike and the knot in my neck had never happened.

Me: “Siri, I said stop.”

She finally settled down, and I cautiously returned to Hubs.

By now, he and Mr. Very-Patient-Telephone-Man were communicating as well as any new relationship can, and things were getting sorted.

Hubs hung up.

Mr. Man hung up.

Me: “Sorry about Siri. She clearly thought you were talking to her.”

Hubs: “What do you mean?”

(And yes, that probably belongs on our household list of repeatable questions: "What do you mean?")

Me: “Siri. She kept trying to talk to you.”

Hubs: “I didn’t hear her.”

Silence.

Me: “You didn’t hear her?”

Hubs: “No. Was she talking?”

Me: “Did you just say, ‘Was she talking?’”

Hubs: “I don’t understand…”

Me: “Siri was trying to get your attention to help you.”

Hubs: “Hmmm. Didn’t hear her.”

Silence.

Siri and I now have a new and bonded relationship. Hubs doesn’t hear either of us.

I’m thinking of inviting her to happy hour by the couch.

She’s bright.

She listens.

And she’s orange.

I think she’s a girlfriend.

This is the real us: Hubs and his two women. Lucky, lucky man.

Big Brains: “She was hearing the words. They just weren't registering on her Richter scale of sanity.” ― Dakota Cassidy, The Accidental Werewolf

Old Souls: “Being listened to feels so much like being loved that people can scarcely tell the difference.” ― David Taylor-Klaus

The Ancient of Days: “Love is patient and kind.” — 1 Corinthians 13:4 (ESV)

Norma Jean: 
Some days I think God invented Siri just so older 
couples would have a witness.

Thursday Chat: Hubs spent the morning talking to the telephone company. Siri spent the morning talking to Hubs. I spent the morning talking to both of them. Sometimes our Thursday years are exhausting. Look after yourself.