Circa Before Time's Ugly Maw Set In to My Face 2005
Like when your spouse walks through the kitchen door with a brand new haircut but all you see is the tone of his hand gestures swiping at his forehead. You skip right over the physical and straight through to mood.
It would be days before I noticed if Andy's eyebrow fell off.
(Okay so maybe not his eyebrow, look at those luscious creatures. His ear perhaps?)
Only happens with people you see every.single.blessed.day. Like your significant other. Like your kids. Not like your super cute Starbucks drive-thru guy. (There isn't one, I just like to mess with Andy because he thinks there might be. I just really like lattes.)
Today I was on the receiving end of being ignored, then discovered, then "complimented" in a husband-y way.
Andy was on travel for a bit and returned today. Like most couples we don't look into each other's face when we speak anymore. That might've ended in '06 or was it '09? So yes we are sink starers and mail flippers while exchanging status updates about the day's events.
"Good day?" *dishsoap, dishsoap, clink, clank*
"Mmm-hmm. Wha? Ummm no....not really...crazy day...worked through lunch."
*bills, bills, Athletica catalog, police donation
"Grayson's head has been hurting since morning, Abby's still got the yuk, Tillie ate a headband, dinner will be ready in a few, don't eat that, dinner is almost ready." *dishsoap, dishsoap, clink, clank*
"K. His head still hurts? Abby's headband?"
*munch munch munch*
Where are the kids?"
"Downstairs. They're beat. I'm broken. Dinner in 30, stop eating Wheat Thins." *clink, clank*
That's how it usually goes and for all I know Adam Levine could've waltzed through the door with Andy's voice and I would be none the wiser. And Kate Beckinsale could've been the one with dishpan hands. We just never look anymore.
But then Andy took me by surprise.
We were in the driveway, under the unforgiving natural light of le sun, and he took my face in his hands. "What!" I demanded like he accused me of eating Funyuns. He tilted my head down so my chin hit my chest. "WHAT!" I freaked out because of course there had to be a tick or some kind of blood sucking bat bug nestled in my hair.
"I'm looking at your grays," deadpanned the man I married.
"You are looking at my grays." I repeat to my boobs.
"Wow, Honey. You have a lot of them."
Would you like to leave the room and come back again to calm down, Dear Reader? I know. I'll give you a minute to collect yourself. Lawd knows I needed one myself.
"It's cute!" declared the man I almost divorced in my driveway and just like that we were happily married once again.
Because now I know, he sees me.
He really sees me.