Random Conversations

While trying to make a fire out of wood that just a "tiny" bit too green:

"How's that for a blazing fire?" Jeremy jokes.
"It's very impressive," I say, as I listen to the water-laden wood sizzle like a teapot, and I ponder the tiny flames barely creeping onto the wood.
"I could add some kerosene. We've got plenty," Jeremy says.
"I'm pretty sure that's a bad idea," I respond.
"Really? You think?" Jeremy asks.
"Just venturing a guess."
"I'll just have to get more aggressive and add more green wood." I watch him plop on more wood and wonder when the tea will be ready. A few minutes later, I look up at the fire again.
"What the hell is that!"
"I got more aggressive," Jeremy says. That's for sure. There's now what looks like a wood cairn in our fireplace, and still only the bottom embers are burning.


I contemplate projects and lists:

"Are there any projects you can think of that you'd like me to work on this spring and summer?" I ask Jeremy.
"The wallpaper border."
"I mean besides the wallpaper border."
"The wallpaper border," he replies again. At this point, I'm fairly certain he's just not understanding my question, though I'm positive I've phrased it as simply as possible.
"No, besides the wallpaper border. Projects that you want to get done that I can help with." I'm thinking things like stripping paint off bricks, painting, scraping paint off the house. . . Jeremy just looks at me.
"The wallpaper border. Why would you want to add more projects to the one you haven't even finished?"
"I like lists." I'm pretty sure there was an eye roll along with his sigh this time.
"I know you like lists, but why do you need a list of things you'll never do?" I think I need to contemplate that one before I can come up with the appropriate response.

Just another Friday night at the Bro house:

"Okay, I'm going to check the fire, go to the bathroom, brush my teeth, grab a beer, and then sit back down," Jeremy says, announcing his extremely motivated plan.
"That's a. . . That's a. . ." Damn. I couldn't find the word I was looking for! I hate it when that happens and have trouble letting it go until I finally think of the word.
"That's a what?" Jeremy asks.
"It's a word that goes along with agenda--like when somebody has a lot they have planned to do," I replied.
"Aggressive?"
"No, that's not it. I'm positive it starts with either an a or an i though."
"Impressive?"
"Nope, that's not it either."

Jeremy gets up, opens the door, and walks into the hall. "Hello hallway!" Now, most people might question why he's talking to the hallway, but I can't say I haven't done weirder things. "Echo. Echo," I hear him say as he makes his way to the bedroom.

I return to the word I can't think of. I ask Binny, who's sitting on my lap, what the word is. She apparently has no idea either. Some help she is. For some reason, instead of the word I'm looking for, the lyrics to "Safety Dance" pop into my head. I pick Binny up, move her like she's dancing, and sing "You can dance if you want to." Then I realize that's the only lyric I can think of and set her back down. I hear Jeremy coming back.

"Echo. Echo. Echo," he calls as he heads back to the kitchen. Sitting, he says, "I didn't realize the hallway echoed so much! That's really cool! Did you know it did that?"
"Yep. Why do you think we can hear Binny howl through the house when she's out there?" Then I switch back. "I still can't think of the word, and it's driving me nuts!"
"Did you ask Binny?" Jeremy queries.
"Yep. She wasn't any help either. Then I had her do the Safety Dance. I don't think she appreciated it."
"Inundated?" Jeremy asks?
"No, that's when you're overwhelmed with stuff to do."
"Inebriated? Intoxicated? Indebted?" Now he's just throwing out words that start with an i. This is no help at all. "I think I'm done with this conversation," he says. Really? I would never have guessed.

The next morning, we're sitting there having coffee, and it finally pops into my head.
"Ambitious!" I exclaim.
"What?"
"That's the word--ambitious!"
"That's like the simplest word to come up with. And that does not even fit the definition you were giving last night," he says.
"Yes it does," I protest.
"It does not. You were saying someone with a lot to do--what you're talking about is more like aggressive."
"Well, maybe the definition didn't come out quite right, but that's definitely fits the definition I had in my head."
Giving me the response I've grown quite accustomed to at this point, he looks at me, sighs, and says, "Imagine that."