I am fighting with all my might to dodge the grumpy old man in me, but he’s a feisty son of a gun.  I tried to use one of my strategies to avoid negative engagement.  I cooked dinner for these people.  I retired to my room.  I didn’t even eat.  Guess what my wonderful, loving husband did?  He devoured his food at lightening speed and followed me upstairs.  I am intently working.  I would like to finish writing.  Perhaps then I could enjoy a bath and maybe an adult beverage.  He entered the room, walked over to the television and turned it on.  Then, he started talking to me.