Together for all the time

It's been three months since Marc and I were dumped off the employment wagon into a sort of retirement life.
(We're not really retired but we're both home all the time together until one or the other finds work outside the home.)
We're a pretty compatible couple.
We like similar things and pastimes and adventures so we're probably doing better than a lot of couples do at this stage in life.
We like to play board games and video games and watch the Murder of the Night television shows.
He likes to cook. I like to cook and we both like to eat.
We love grandchildren and spending time with them.
We like to bike. We like to travel.

A stone age couple

We both have fairly intensive church callings and commitments.
So, for the most part, it's a good life together.
That is to say, we haven't killed each other yet.
Because no matter what the experts say and no matter how much you love one another, it's tough to suddenly be home together all the time.
We find we're bumping into one another as we work in the kitchen and going up and down the stairs.
He says I get in his way when he's cooking and I'm convinced that no matter where I stand in the working space, he needs to be there at the same time just because that's where I am.
There's little rest for the weary because when I'm not working, I want to play and when he's not busy, he comes by for a hug, breaking my concentration.
If he's in the shower, I need to start the washer at the same instant (cutting off the hot water).
If I'm sitting down for a minute to watch a daytime soap opera or something just as essential, he needs to talk to me right now.
If the phone rings, either we both answer or no one answers because we each assume the other one has it.
If a door-to-door salesman comes by, he lets them in. I usually don't even answer the bell.
If a junk-mail telephone person calls, he tells them I'm here. Again, I generally ignore them completely.
When we grocery shop, he likes to linger while I want to check things off my list and keep going.
It's really quite the dance as we try to adjust.
I think back to my son Steven's comment when he would be dating somebody who just wanted to be with him and with him and with him some more, even after he'd just been with that person.
"Don't you need downtime?" he'd say to the clueless, crushed girl. "I need downtime!"
So do we.