The art of marital mind-reading is something I’ve admired about my parents since I can remember. They finish each others’ sentences and always seem to have some sort of inside joke going on. Growing up, I always knew I wanted someone who could read my thoughts, someone who would finish my sentences.
Since [well maybe not since, but close to since] that first night I met Chris, when he offered to buy me a drink and I said yes and then he ordered a Sapphire tonic and then I ordered – wait, do I even need to tell you? – a Sapphire tonic, I thought, Oh, this guy’s something. And every conversation we had from that first G&T until ten days later, when I told him I thought we’d get married, involved one of us exclaiming, “Oh my god, me too!“
And so obviously, I knew I’d met my match – that person who I could look at with those eyes who would know what I wanted or needed who would and handle the situation accordingly, rather than be all, “Do you have something in your eye?”
We’re almost a year into this marriage business, and Chris and I are still perfecting our mind-reading skills.
For example, there was this one time we were at brunch with Chris’s parents and brother and I wanted us to pay, except that Chris’s parents will almost never, ever, EVER let us pay, and so I had to look at him very intensely and say, “READ. MY. MIND.” And then I tried to telepathically send him the message, “WE SHOULD PAY FOR THIS BREAKFAST. QUICK! GRAB YOUR CREDIT CARD!” Except that Chris’s mom can also read my mind (pft, women!) and so it ended up being a sort of battle – which woman could get their husband to read their mind and then which man could whip their credit card out fast enough. For the record, we won.
But then there are nights like tonight, where the girl sitting next to us at dinner – wearing fake eyelashes, by the way…Who wears fake eyelashes on a Tuesday? – said, “They send me spam emails, like, every day! Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday!” And I looked at Chris, all wide-eyed and knowing, and he said, “I know, I was thinking the same thing.”
And so, whether our telepathy is “on” or not, I’m so happy to have found my mind-reader, someone who I can STARE AT LIKE A TOTAL CREEPER, but no matter the day – Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Wednesday, Friday, Sunday, Saturday – knows me better than anyone.
You are so funny – "who wears false eyelashes on a Tuesday?" Hilarious! Isn't it great when they can tell what you're thinking, or vice versa? I always say to Shaun "I can't read your mind" but now that I think about it, 90% of the time I can!