The conversation would always start off alright. A perfect exchange, short pauses for thinking, a few nods of the head, a laugh or two and then something strange happened. The pauses got longer and longer until all that remained was silence. Not knowing what else to do, she would look down at her hands, repeat part of the story and add a "you know" to the end of the sentence. I would nod in agreement because it would have been rude to, you know, not know, you know. You know is back with a vengeance at our house.
"Honey, did you, you know, uh do that thing I asked you to do the other day. Cause, you know, it will be here before you know it," I asked while scrambling eggs.
"I wanted to but, you know, I had that meeting yesterday. I will try to get it done by Friday."
"Ok, but he keeps asking me about it, you know?"
"I know, I know, I know," Hubs replies hurriedly shoving something into his briefcase.
"Maybe, we should just do it this weekend, you know. Might be easier."
"Breakfast is ready," I announced to Bailey as I slid the eggs onto a plate.
He was already waiting at the table and as I put the plate down in front of him, he said, "Those are eggs, you know."