Forty years from now...

When my daughter-in-law (or possibly son-in-law) comes to me and complains to me about being annoyed when Bam-Bam even breathes, much like my own mother complains about my own father breathing, I will be able to say that I saw it coming and did nothing about it.

We have a rather tongue-in-cheek exchange involving my parents and their current living arrangement. After careful observation, it boils down its simplest form that they share air. That's it. They each have their own bedroom, computer, vehicle, couch and the most recent addition of separate checking accounts probably at separate banks. She never drives his car, he rarely drives hers. She never uses his computer, he's only on hers to fix something. And they never sit on each other's couches. Now that dad works second shift, they almost never even share the air anymore. The humor is not lost on the daughers and although it's not a life we'd chose for them or ourselves, they seem to be making the best of it.

The joke started, though, with my mom complaining a few years back that she can't stand my dad's breathing. It's a combination of breath holding and long drawn out exhales. As I sat here reading my daily dose of blogs this morning I noticed Bam-Bam doing something eerily similar and I just need to declare that when the time comes for his life's love to complain about it, I will have already seen it coming.