I am determinedly observant.
It is a trait that has come in handy in any job I have had. As a waitress, I got good at eavesdropping and picking up on visual cues. You’d be surprised how often a well timed salsa refill has kept a table from arguing with one another while simultaneously ensuring me a good tip. Or when listening to the woes of whiny, hungry child has saved the day when I swoop in with lunch, “and when you’re done, if your mom says it’s okay, I’ll get you some ice cream, how does that sound?”
I can usually tell my husband or my daughters the exact location of the thing they’re looking for. It’s not a super power bestowed on all moms, it’s simply because I happened to see him toss his wallet on the bed twenty minutes before he straightened the sheets, or that I was annoyed when she kicked off her shoes before she took a nap instead of putting them where they belonged, or watched the beloved bunny get tossed aside in excitement when her Daddy walked in the door.
Sometimes I forget that others haven’t honed their “attention to little details” skills like I have. I’ll comment to my husband on something I saw while driving down the street: “Did you see [outrageous thing]?! How crazy!” And he’ll say, “Huh? What are you talking about?” (This is one of the wonderful differences between my husband and I. During any silent moment, he is thinking about how to ensure a brighter future for himself, his family, his work, and the universe at large, whlie I am paying attention to “what is that woman wearing?!” My husband is awesome and so am I, just in very different ways.)
|Where is it|
(this screencap is from Gardens of Time, which I have conquered.)
Occasionally, I torture myself by testing my observation skills. I play an online game of some kind, which either tests my memory or insists I find all objects in a certain scene.
And those games cheat.
It’s like they deliberately leave ONE thing out so that I can’t find it! I can’t decide if it’s meant to humble my bragging ways or to show me that I’m not that observant after all. Part of me thinks, “oh, it’s just a game, just go do something else and forget about it.” But another part of me is yelling, “HOW DARE YOU!! I will find this final chess piece if it’s the last thing I do.”
And I will. If it’s the last thing I do.