Spoiled Married People

Sid worked from home today, so he came upstairs to join us for lunch.  I caught his eye several times, smiling real big, shifting my head from side to side slightly — my desperate attempt to get him to notice what he had missed this morning.  After all, it’s not every year that I buy a new set of hair clips and try to change my hair-do.

Exasperated, I finally said, “You haven’t noticed my new hairstyle.  I even bought new hair clips.”

“Oh I noticed those hair thingys this morning,” he claims.  “But it’s still the same style, kind of waving back from your face.”  He waves his hands over his head and makes a whooshing noise.

I roll my eyes and sigh severely.  “I PARTED my hair on the side.”

Sid squints his eyes and looks closer.  “Nah.  It’s still the same.”

“Humph.  That’s the last time I spend an extra 2 minutes primping in the morning.”

I carry my lunch plate of leftover stroganoff to the table where my 9-year-old sits, shaking his head, a trace of sigh on his lips.

“What?”  I ask.

“You get spoiled when you get married.”

“Huh?  Spoiled how?”

“You get spoiled when you love on each other like that all the time.”

I hold back the laughter, reducing it to a smile.  Perception is definitely this kid’s strength.

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