I need to listen a bit more.

I need to listen a bit more.
What I mean is that I listen to her, sometimes, but not a lot and not too closely. Well, she never says anything interesting and what she knows about anything is negligible. Mind, according to her she knows everything
She gets up every morning and comes down the stairs wearing her onesie and looking about as attractive as anthrax just not as appealing. The minute she puts a foot in the kitchen she starts;
"How long have you been up? Have you fed the dogs? What have you had to eat? Where are we going today? We need milk, go and get some. I need some money, give me your card before I go out! Has the dog been chewing the draft excluder again?" and so on, on and on, on and on, and I turn her off, it's not worth listening to.
Then she will say, "Are you listening to me?"
I am honest, and like annoying her so I say, "No. I'm not. You talk crap at the best of times."
The stress levels rise promptly. "What!" yells Shirly Temple. "Am I talking to myself?"
"It's the only way you'll get a sensible conversation," I tell her.
This makes matters worse and she is off, slagging me off while I snigger a good deal.
I need to listen a bit more.