Scene: Hubby driving, me riding shotgun, in heavy 6-lane traffic in the city. He has his attention on the road. I'm alternating between reading a map and watching for signs.
Me: "Okay, 22 should be coming up on the...hey, was that a Barnes & Noble?"
He: (without asking) "I'll turn around."
Same scene, another frequent conversation:
He: "So Al saw this flock of turkeys, and...ooh." (glances in rearview)
Me: "Blue two-tone. Nice." (goes back to sign-watching)
He: "Extended-cab longbed."
Me: "4x4, too."
He: "With manual hubs."
Me: "Didn't see any rust on the fenders."
He: "I like it."
Me: "Needs bigger tires."
He: (laughs at me) "So anyway, Al saw the turkeys..."
There can be four lanes of traffic, a median, and three semis between us and a nice car or truck, but we always know exactly which vehicle it is that the other one spotted, even if we only got a quick glimpse as it went the other way at 70 MPH. We're just tuned in. Got Radar Love or something.
Hey, was that a Fuddrucker's we just passed?
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