People are getting lazy, according to reports. For example, you can buy lingerie that moisturizes your skin. These high-tech camisoles and briefs release aloe vera as you move. Wow, until now I never considered how much time and energy I spend moisturizing.  

My own partner has his lazy moments. On impulse, he paid twenty dollars for a scratch ticket. After reading the instructions, he handed me the ticket: all seven areas needed to be scratched and that was too much work for him.

“Just how busy are you?” I asked as he waited for me to uncover his winnings. “Busy working with NASA? Doctors Without Borders?”

It’s my duty to pick on him because this morning he accused me of being a lousy listener. “You always make me repeat myself,” he said. “You ask a question, and then you start digging in your purse or fiddling with paperwork!”

“I am so listening, I’m just multi-tasking,” I said in my defense. “I can listen and put on my sunglasses.”

“No, you can’t.”

“Pardon?”

Oh-oh, maybe he has a point. Listening isn’t as easy as it sounds. Or am I also too lazy to listen properly?  

Business meetings are hot spots for listening chasms. I’m preoccupied with the shape of a person’s eyebrows (caterpillar thick lately) or the fluttering of a co-worker’s nostrils (now I’m thinking Easter Bunny) to hear important details and deadlines.

According to trainer Candace Coleman of Say It Well, a company that works with people to help improve communication skills, “If your attitude isn’t right and you aren’t going to meetings ready to listen, then you won’t.”

I really try, but sometimes I’m distracted. Last week I blame my meeting diversion on a man’s tie. All those little penguins wearing toques and holding hockey sticks engrossed me.

Other experts offer more dire news, that humans are simply bad listeners, self-absorbed and always thinking about what we’re going to say next.

One doctor says we start out with a “startle response” at birth, but our listening skills begin to slide as we grow. We’re great at hearing compliments yet tune out much of the rest.

As for my husband’s assumption that I’m not making the effort to listen, it doesn’t help that he shares his gems just as I flush a toilet or turn on the garbage disposal. All I hear is, “Guess who got fired for stealing the–” 

Pretty soon it’s all over ‘cept the flushing and the disposing, and I must ask again “who got fired?” and “what was stolen?”

The final piece of advice by the listening experts is that you should pay attention, do not interrupt, and try to understand. If you’re not sure of what someone means, ask questions.

I’d like to make a few amendments to the list: don’t multi-task while listening, and don’t ask your partner to repeat anything.

Sure, you might inadvertently agree to babysit his friend’s toddler for the weekend or sign up for skydiving lessons, but isn’t that better than being called a lousy listener?

Before I consider couples counseling, I’ll get my ears tested. And I might skydive but I’m not babysitting!