I’m not known for my mindfulness. Frequently I walk into doors, trip over lines in the floor, and manage to poke myself in the eye while applying makeup. I once nearly caught the house on fire by accidentally dropping a load of clean laundry on top of a burning candle. If not for the unique scent of burning elastic, I’d likely be living somewhere other than Doright Manor. And those were my favorite panties. 😢
Studly Doright, on the other hand, prides himself on his observational abilities. And I have to admit that he notices stuff other males often don’t—new haircuts, new eyeglass frames, anything new I happen to have purchased hoping he wouldn’t notice. That old line “This old dress? I’ve had it for ages!” never works on him.
Very rarely will he be out of the loop when something changes in his domain. But when he slips, I’m there to take note.
Just a couple of days ago I heard him say, “Hey, you finally hung the grandkids’ senior pictures!”
“Yes, honey, they’ve been up in the same location for two months now.”
“Yep. A couple of feet from the door you walk through multiple times every single day. Now who has awareness issues?”
Then he reminded me of that time when I didn’t realize he’d shaved off his beard until he’d been clean shaven for a month. In my defense, it never was much of a beard.
And the time I got into the driver’s seat of a complete stranger’s car and wondered why my key wouldn’t fit into the ignition.
And also the time I had a conversation with my own reflection in a mirror. I was a bit drunk, but still…
I guess I remain the clueless one. How could he not notice these stunning young people though? Boggles the mind. Has anyone seen my phone? Oh, right, I’m using it to blog.