B and I stopped at the bookstore today, and on our way through the door I was temporarily sidetracked by a row of books arranged on a shelf inside the doorway. Barnes & Noble likes to set bargain books right inside the door so it’s inevitable that someone, okay, someone like me, ends up distracted and parked in the way of everyone trying to walk into the store, and right now our Barnes & Noble has a bunch of “history in maps” books in their featured display. I just couldn’t help myself; I was digging through them even before the door behind me had fallen closed.
B was walking behind me, and I heard him chuckle as I breathed “oooooh!” and snatched up a WWII in maps book. I didn’t pay him any mind, since he’s always poking fun at one or another thing I do and I just figured he was laughing at how easily distracted I was. But a few seconds later, as he also reached to pick up one of the books, he declared, “You’re such a guy!”
Okay, this is where I started paying attention. Because even with all the times I’ve heard that, it’s kind of shocking to hear it from one’s own husband. He’s just about as masculine and comfortable in his own skin as a guy can be, so I find it a relief that my own sometimes-less-than-feminine ways no longer register on the radar since I met him, so his comment shocked me. I asked him what he meant, and he said, “Really? I mean, you stop dead in your tracks when you see a row of history books and maps. That’s a guy thing.”
“I’m going to take that as a compliment, but don’t think I’m letting you get off that easily, Mister,” I said as I turned my back to him in mock defiance.
“But I meant it as a compliment!”
“Watch me. I’m putting down the WWII book and walking away. QUICK! Somebody tell me where the Twilight books are!”