It is a rare thing when you truly get to see things from another person's perspective. Really rare, I think, to get to see things through your husband or significant other's eyes. And I don't mean looking at identical items or situations and seeing different things, I mean flipping a situation in a way that allows you to actually see and feel what it would be like for someone else in a similar (and perhaps more commonplace) situation.
Shall I explain myself? In a way that actually makes sense, I mean?
Saturday night we went out to dinner at a new friend's house (delightful! fabulous! much enjoyed!) and had to get a stop-gap babysitter because it was pretty last minute. I ended up getting the 17-year-old brother of one of the (many) girls I had called to agree to the job.
You see where this is going, right?
I imagined Neville Longbottom in my head.... I mean, really, what kind of 17-year-old boy agrees to babysit three little boys on a Saturday night last minute? Right?! Especially a boy named Oliver!
I go to pick him up and this is what walks out the door:
With a little bit of this thrown in:
Yeah. I wasn't expecting that, either.
Needless to say, I was on my best behavior! But even my husband, as soon as the handsome lad was upstairs with the boys, was like "What the ....? I was not expecting THAT to walk through the door with you. Harumph." [teasing 'harumph,' not a real one]
It came to light over dinner that Oliver has a bit of a reputation in the village... as a looker, nothing more (get your mind out of the gutter, please). It turns out that one of the other 30-something moms, upon finding out that Oliver was our babysitter, actually squealed while clutching her bosom, then heaved a big dreamy sigh. We then giddily compared notes on how adorable he was and giggled like schoolgirls in the process.
So that is how I now know what it is like for every husband across the land who has to deal with ridiculously hot, young, almost legal babysitters showing up at their doorstep for babysitting duties. Obviously I'd never act on it. But, lordy, I can't help but let my imagination go just a teensy, eensy, tiny little bit.