It contained this quote, "Honestly at this point in the story as he’s telling me I’m only half interested much like you reading this right now." And this started me thinking...
I used to complain that my husband couldn't remember things that I'd had 5 minute conversations with him about. I've joked that - to my husband - my voice must frequently sound like Charlie Brown's teacher, "Wa waaa, wa waa waa waaa." In all seriousness, the man was making noises during the conversation of some sort, because I demand it. "Could you make a noise so I know you hear I've paused in my fascinating story and to indicate you're still with me!?!?!?"
Apparently, it's contagious because I hardly ever know what he's talking about now, and I've come to hear his voice as background music... I may hum along, but I don't really know the words because.... I'm thinking about other things. While I have a love affair with adjectives of my own, I've found that I like him to "get to the point."
He has also picked up on an annoying little habit from ME, which ends a long bunch of information with a question. Not just a question like, "What's for dinner?" (Which he asks me every morning at 7 o'clock, as though I even care about dinner before my morning coffee fix.) No, this is a question that can only be answered by a good wife - one that has paid a smidgen of attention to the last 5 sentences that he was sharing with me. In other words... the TRICK question.
I've been springing those TRICK questions on him for years. Lately, he's been getting better at answering them because
So, my tricks are backfiring on me. I'm making a conscious effort to NOT influence him to becoming more visually observant. The last thing I need is a husband that has looked at me hard enough to see that my makeup hasn't covered the blemish that is in some kind of time warp that brought it from the 80's onto my 46 year old chin, and the skin on my forearms does ugly things when I pinch it just like this.... see that? UGH!
So, the next time I walk through the living room with my robe on over my jeans, dragging the 3rd shirt out of the laundry basket, I'm going to resist the fun in asking him how I look, just so I can catch him saying "Great!" without looking my way. This game is not going to become more fun as years go by if he starts to really look at me!
In fact, I believe it would be risky for him to get that Lasik eye surgery he's been thinking of. I have a permanent airbrushing going on as long as he takes off his glasses, and I think