The Unexpected Pleasure of Buying Bread With My Husband

Last week I had lunch with friends and on my way back to the office I passed a shop where I knew my husband planned to pick up some steaks for supper. As I stopped at the light closest to the store, I tried to see in the window, thinking he might be there, even at that moment. And then I saw him! Walking up the sidewalk toward the shop door.

Now, we’ve been married for almost 16 years. I see him almost every day. But when I saw him there, on the street, totally unaware of me, I got a little flutter. You know, that same flutter I got 16 years ago when he came to pick me up for a date. That, he’s mine flutter I felt when we got married. That goofy flutter I got the first time I introduced him as my husband.

So I cut through traffic, parked and went into the shop to see him. And we picked out steaks, then went to the bakery next door and got bread and cookies and then we went our separate ways just a wee bit reluctantly.

Here’s the thing. It’s easy to stop seeing someone when you see them all the time. When you get out of bed in the morning, when you brush your teeth, when you come home in the evening, when you sit down to eat a meal, when you walk from the kitchen to the bedroom . . . all the time. But when you stumble across that same person out in the world, you see them differently. Or rather, you SEE them. And I don’t know about the rest of you, but when I take the time to SEE my husband, he looks mighty fine to me.

What do you miss seeing because you’ve become complacent? What do you need to look at from a different angle?

4 thoughts on “The Unexpected Pleasure of Buying Bread With My Husband

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