Change the word obvious to oblivious and you have me. It’s no surprise to anyone who knows me that I live inside my head most of the time. It’s a nice place to be, but really blinds me to the realities of the outside world. This becomes glaringly obvious when company comes calling.
Ordinarily I keep a clean house. It’s not magazine perfect, much to my husband’s disappointment, but the health department is not going to come calling any time soon. It’s picked up and the dishes are mostly clean and put away. The obvious things are done. Well, the things that are obvious to me. Therein lies the problem. What I’m oblivious to can stand out glaringly to others, and when they enter, I seem to all of a sudden see through their eyes what before I had no awareness of.
Once my mother-in-law came to visit. She noticed some cobwebs and I joked that they were there because we needed the spiders around to catch the flies. (I think my humor was lost on her.) Well, another time we were cleaning up the kitchen together and I swiped some cobwebs that I suddenly noticed in the kitchen window. Her response? “I was going to get those, but you said you needed them to catch the flies.”
Another time one of my son’s friends wrote dust me in the thin layer of dust at the top of a bookshelf! Who looks at the top of bookshelves?
Fortunately for others, my obliviousness is all-encompassing. If I go to your house, don’t apologize for your messy kitchen. I would never have noticed otherwise. Don’t spoil the great conversation by pointing out the weeds in your garden. Trust me. I won’t see them. When I go home, I won’t be able to tell anyone the color of your house, let alone whether or not you have cobwebs or dust on top of your bookshelf. All I will remember is how much I enjoyed your company.
As for the rest, I am resigned to being forever oblivious to the obvious.