Well, my life is probably more boring than she thinks it should be.
I can't really argue.
You know you're old when you're happy to be home instead of going someplace all the time.
Case in point, last week.
It's not too often I get the house to myself, at least for more than a few hours. Even with the kids at college, my wife and I are usually housebound.
Last week was one of those rare occasions.
My wife was invited by one of her sisters to travel to Kearney. Her daughter was in state speech, her husband couldn't make it, and she wanted some company, so my wife tagged along.
That left me at home with the dog and the cat.
Two of us slept most of the night, and the other one vegged out in front of the TV.
Hint: I was the one watching TV. The dog's blind and the cat will occasionally stop and watch TV, but prefers sleeping and eating and complaining when her bowl is empty.
So on my night of bachelorhood, I nuked a couple frozen burritos and watched TV, removing any doubt that I am officially old and boring.
I can no longer even pretend to have hurt feelings when Claire says my life is boring.
I know it's boring. My wife and I talk about how boring we are. We give up.
After years of having my springs and summers revolve around baseball, I now find myself at home.
But I am not really complaining. I accept the boredom, and a part of me relishes it.
Work keeps me busy enough, and when it's time to go home for the day, I'm ready.
Home is where I settled in last week with my burritos and the warmth of my big screen.
When it was time for bed I slept like I hadn't slept in days.
Until my wife's alarm when off at 5.
My wife wasn't home.
The alarm should not have been set.
I still had an hour before my alarm was to sound.
I guess, out of habit, my wife set her alarm.
So I trudged out of bed thinking it was time to get up, only to realize I should still be burrowed under the covers.
I shut the alarm off, went back to bed, only to hear the dog get up.
This is a 10-year-old dog. An "old 10," the vet says.
There's no telling her to hold her bladder for an hour.
I had to let her out. The thing that separates dogs from humans is this. If I had to wake up at 5 o'clock in the morning and my bathroom was outside, I'd hurry.
They can wake up, go outside in a blizzard and still find a reason to roam around the yard.
So I waited and I waited. I filled her dog dish and I waited.
Finally, after she was done she decided to come back in the house.
By this time my alarm was going to go off in about 30 minutes. No way I was going to stay up, but no way was I going to fall asleep right away.
I finally did get some shut-eye for a couple minutes, but the morning started too soon for me.
That night my wife came home and my wild bachelor life was over.
Thank goodness. I can't handle all this excitement.