He's telling me about an antique car some guy found in a junkyard. Only 5 of them in the world and 3 (or something like that) were crushed.
I'm only half listening.
But something nudges me, maybe it's that we're spending the day together to celebrate our 26th anniversary, and I stop what I'm doing and . .
1. Look at him
His eyes are excited with the story.
2. I engage
It doesn't matter at all to me. Cars are cars. They get me from A to B.
But his eyes and the inflection of his voice make me smile.
3. I step toward him and nod.
And old junkyard cars that guys restore because there's just a few left in the world start to interest me.
Mean something to me.
Because he does.