It was a lazy Saturday afternoon. After working in the yard all morning, I sat on the chair in the living room, alternatively reading and playing an occasional word game on my phone. An e-mail notification silently popped up. I clicked on it and read.
“Oh my God, Kurt! Guess what just happened!” I announced dramatically. I waited for him to answer, expecting him to ask what newly outrageous post a relative had written, or what lies a certain politician was now spewing, or what new national disaster threatened.
He looked up from the sofa, where he was reading his book. He paused, then said, “You found out that your favorite gelato flavor is in?”
I looked at his hands–book only, no phone, no computer. I looked at my phone again, and reread the e-mail message:
“How could you possibly know that?” I finally asked, astonished.
“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “It’s just the first thing that came into my head.”
“Whoa! That is so strange! We haven’t even been talking about getting gelato lately.” I looked again at my phone, dumbfounded, and then back at him.
“I can’t believe you knew that!”
A moment later, still flummoxed, I commented, “That is just so weird! Clearly, we have been married too long.”
Then a few days later, we simultaneously reached out to affectionately pat the other as we walked past each other–kind of like you pet your old faithful dog. We both laughed.
“Pretty soon we aren’t even going to need to talk at all,” Kurt joked.