During our date Friday night, I mentioned a girl I knew. I only had good things to say about her. She’s very beautiful. She takes great care of her physical appearance.
“I really admire her,” I said.
“Yeah?” My husband asked, trying to sound interested.
“Yeah, you deserve someone like that -someone gorgeous and skinny and gorgeous and skinny.”
“What?” He asked.
“The kids should have a mother who sets a better example. I should be more like that. I should take better care of myself.”
My husband, the poor guy, didn’t really know what to say. The fact is: in a matter of three miles, I went from admiring a girl I knew to factually PROVING what a terrible wife and mother I was. He eventually cut my pity-party short and called me back to reality.
I asked him how he did it.
“Men don’t do that,” I said.
“Go from thinking well of one man to completely hating themselves.”
“Nope,” he said.
“Why not?” I asked. “What’s the secret?”
(I love the ability men have to form answers in one solitary word, often times an echo of what they’ve just heard.)
“Yeah. What’s the secret? Please tell me. I’ll write a book and we’ll make millions.”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged.
“Try and think…” I pleaded, dollar signs blinging in my eyes.
“Just…” He started -I held my breath.
“Get over it,” he finished.
So there you have it. The secret. The know-how. The key to confidence. I pried his deepest feelings from his heart and THAT’S what I got.
Treasure it, ladies. Treasure it.