We always talk about how different we are. How we couldn’t have more opposite styles of communication. He’s broad. I’m detailed. He listens. I talk. But for the record, he loves the details. He loves to listen. He always asks, “How’s every little thing, baby girl?”
But there are days when he fails to communicate and we get in trouble. When we double book ourselves. When he has expectations that aren’t said. When I have expectations that are unrealistic. Classic, right?
For the most part we read each other’s mind. We’ve started to train ourselves to think like the other person. I have been known to ask myself, “WWJD?” What would John Do? So like I said, most of the time we read each other’s mind, except this one time that always stands out. We use it as reference for when we’re thinking two totally different things. We joke, “Oh that’s was another one of those half of eight is three moments.”
We were driving somewhere. The destination escapes me, but if I had to guess we were making our way to dinner. John loves taking me out to dinner. More than likely, we were out claiming a Restaurant.com gift certificate. John also loves taking me out to dinner, especially when an R.com is involved. We love R.coms. Anyway, he was driving, and I in the passenger seat of his little Honda. And for whatever reason, he was trying to remember my house number. At the time is was 2453. It was one of those moments that was almost a test. He knew he should’ve known my house number by now.
He hmmm and hawwed and eeked out the first three numbers… “Two… Four….” and with a rise of the eyebrows to make sure he was on the right track, “Five…?”
“Yep, you’re doing great! Keep going. One more.”
He sighed as he racked his brain, “Two, four, five….” He struggled.
Giving mercy to the boy, I thought of the first hint that came to mind: “Okay, I’ll give you some help with the last number — it’s half of an eight.”
“Four!” He loudly exclaimed. “I got it! 2454.”
“Noooooo,” I whined. ” I said, half of AN eight. Like, cut it in half. Down the middle. If you do that, it’s a 3. 2453 is my house number.”
He rolled his eyes, thought I was a little crazy and anyone in their right mind would say half of an eight is a four, but then just to push my buttons he said, “But, if I were really to cut an 8 in half, I’d do it hamburger style and have a 0.”
Enter the right brain, left brain… Saw this on Facebook a while ago and immediately thought of John and myself and our crazy half-of-eight is-three moments. Can you guess which one I am?
I am the left brain.
I am a scientist. A mathematician.
I love the familar. I categorize. I am accurate. Linear.
Analytic. Strategic. I am practical.
Always in control. A master of words and language.
Realistic. I calculate equations and play with numbers.
I am order. I am logic.
I know exactly who I am.
I am the right brain.
I am creativity. A free spirit. I am passion.
Yearning. Sensuality. I am the sound of roaring laughter.
I am taste. The feeling of sand beneath bare feet.
I am movement. Vivid colors.
I am the urge to paint on an empty canvas.
I am boundless imagination. Art. Poetry. I sense. I feel.
I am everything I wanted to be.
So let’s hear it… Which side dominates you??