I’m wearing four layers of clothing while we work in the barn. The wind is whipping across Tug Hill and biting my exposed skin when I step outside. My husband comes through, “We need to run to town for fuel,” he says.
So I jump in the truck.
We’re only stopping at the bank and the gas station. I don’t know how many times I’ve made these same stops without seeing a single person that I know.
This time we run into everyone and their aunt’s cousin’s brother.
In the truck, on the way home, I mention while patting my layered stomach, “I haven’t seen some of them in quite awhile, they’re probably thinking, ‘my she’s chunked up’.”
And he looks at me and says with a wink, “But just think, Tashie-girl, the next time you see them they’ll think, ‘my she’s looking good!'”
We had a good laugh but the truth is that I love my husband’s ability to help switch my perspective around.
Does your husband ever help you change your perspective on a situation?