How long have you lived here?

Is my least favourite question?

The problem is, it's so easy to ask.

It seems like a pleasant way to request a bit of personal information, a starting point

for categorising the person you're talking to.

But it's so annoying to answer.

I have to do the math every time.

I graduated from college in 2010, got married a year later, lived with my grandparents

in law for two years while we saved up, bought the house after that, at seven years.

No.

Eight.

That gets us to today.

Yeah, eight years I think.

And if my wife is around, she inevitably corrects me, because I rounded up in the wrong

place or something.

Anyway, let's neither hear nor there, just cropping.

My point is that for eight years, we'll go with eight for now, I've been going to

the same Vietnamese restaurant on First Street, at least once a week.

And if it's up to me, I'll go back every week, as long as I live here.

In fact, any time we talk about moving, that's what gives me a twinge.

Not the neighbours, not the woodsie park across the street, not the balmy weather we get

for eight months out of the year.

...