“How Do I Mute You?”

Two percent of people admit they’ve stolen (blank) from a hotel. And no, it’s not a bible or towels.

I’ll have your answer coming up.

As we approach our 8^th anniversary, Gretchen has perhaps reached her breaking point.

Yesterday, after I’d once again said something I thought was absolutely hilarious, she looked at me with her face screwed up a bit and asked, “How do I mute you?”

The thing is, she can’t.

I write and speak for a living. Always have. Even after leaving a radio show I hosted for a gazillion years, I’m still spouting off.

Sometimes I need a sounding board. Essentially, it’s someone who has to be the guinea pig as I try to corral the random thoughts that ping-pong around my brain all day. Before I write them for you, I’ve been known to try them out.

Some people enjoy my daily rambling, and they’re kind enough to write back and tell me so.

But the person you really need to thank is Gretchen. She’s the crash-test dummy for my ideas before they reach you. Almost every one of them.

Although really, isn’t that the job of any partner? It’s the assignment we signed up for. In order for you to enjoy my dazzling company the rest of the time, you have to put up with my moments of babbling rants.

If you’re in a relationship, then you know. You know that’s the deal we all make.

Thank goodness for these people, who, whether they know it or not, are walking filters. Their job is to make sure the rest of the world doesn’t have to hear everything we’re thinking.

So, no, Gretchen, you can’t mute me. You can only love me at a lower volume.

What have these people stolen from a hotel?

A plant.

That potted fern didn't check out. It was kidnapped.

When you're telling these little stories? Here's a good idea: have a point. It makes it so much more interesting for the listener!