Maria and I like to keep up a steady patter of absolute nonsense during the day when we’re not particularly busy. Today, I decided to bitch about the local news. Local news generally gives me an aneurysm in the parts of my brain I still haven’t managed to unwash thanks to five years of journalism schooling.

“Nah, I think I read on the PiPress this morning that flights were having trouble getting out of Chicago,” I said.
“Really?”
“I might have imagined it,” I said. “Because now apparently the top news is that Bruce Springsteen is going to play Harley Davidson’s 105th anniversary, and there were four fender benders during the morning rush hour.”
“This is news?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “I really hate local news.” I took a deep breath to launch into my favorite local news diatribe. “Because it’s all like the day Rosa Parks died, and Channel 11 had three others news stories before talking about her death. One of the stories was about how there was a fight at Robbinsdale-Armstrong, or Cooper or something like that. There was a fight at a high school that may or may not have been gang related and some kid’s mom took him to the doctor. Oh and by the way, Rosa Parks is dead.”
“When was this?” she asked.
“I don’t know, the day Rosa Parks died.”
“Oh,” she said her voice falling to indicate sadness. “I didn’t know Rosa Parks died.”
“This was years ago,” I shouted.
“It couldn’t have been that long ago,” she said.
“It was years!”
“How come you remember a newscast from years ago?”
“Because I am weird. How can you not remember that Rosa Parks died years ago?”
“Because I have twins,” she said.