The days are getting [something comparative]

It was still dark at seven this morning. I had just pressed our coffee.
    "The days are sure getting longer," I called to my wife in the dining room.
    "You mean shorter," she said. "The nights are getting longer."
    "Right," I said, "whatever. One of those comparative words."
    My wife harumphed.
    "I knew it was a comparative word," I said. "I can still remember word classifications."
    My brain wheels whirred some more. "As long as I can remember word classifications, I'll be all right."
    Whir.
    "When I can't remember word classifications, then I'll be in trouble."
    "Really in trouble," my wife adjusted.