Love goggles

DD sent me a picture of his younger self last week and I’ve been staring at it on and off ever since.

I’ve decided that while the concept of a younger him is exciting, I prefer the silver fox version.

I try to imagine being in a relationship with the fresh faced fellow in the photo, but I just can’t picture it.

I think the older version is far more handsome.

We had dinner together on Friday at our favourite Malaysian restaurant and I noted over Chicken Capitan Curry that I think “love goggles” play a big role in how attractive you find your partner.

I’m not talking about the negative version of it, which The Free Dictionary describes as “the inability to see any flaws in one’s beloved”. I’m talking about “positive directional bias” … erm, at least that’s what I think it is … Google hasn’t been very helpful on the subject.

Here’s how the BBC describes it: “If you judge the attractiveness of someone as greater than their objective level of attractiveness (or greater, say, than a random person would rate them) you are said to have positive directional bias – in other words, it is as if you are wearing rose-tinted glasses.

It also reckons “consistently ranking our partner’s qualities higher than other people would – is one of the most important factors that determines how happy you are in your relationship”.

I reckon when you love someone, you see the essence of the person and not the years on their face.

Yesterday, DD sent me a photo he took of me at the dinner, I asked him if it was a “love goggles” picture. He said yes, because I have my “happy face” on.

My happy face hasn’t been around as much lately because I’ve been feeling a bit low, due to being sad about my sick friend and being run down from working long hours from home while single parenting two children and two dogs and missing out on two holidays during COVID-19.

I don’t think it’s the best photo of me – my teeth look a bit weird and I’m all wrinkly under the eyes – but my hope is that he doesn’t see those things. I want him to like looking at me as much as I like looking at him.

Speaking of appearance … I dropped into the bottle shop on my way to DD’s place last night to buy a red to go with the casserole I’d made for our dinner. The long-haired, twentysomething bloke working behind the counter greeted me cheerfully as I walked through the door, then complimented me on my outfit as I paid for my wine.

I was a bit startled because a) he was a long-haired, twentysomething bloke; and b) I’d thrown my clothes on in a rush and was a bit uncertain about them.

I’d been hustled out the door by the youngest, who was in a state because I was giving her a lift and she didn’t want to be late. I grabbed a pouffy-sleeved orange paisley shirt that I bought on sale pre-COVID-19 shutdown and never got around to wearing, paired it with some black leggings and boots and raced out the door – via the eldest’s room to ask if I looked like a pirate.

The eldest assured me I didn’t look like a pirate, but the youngest grumbled her disdain for my attire.

I said to the bottle shop bloke: “You don’t think I look like a pirate?”

He assured me I didn’t. I told him my 14-year-old was embarrassed to be seen with me and he shook his head and said she was crazy because I looked great.

Awwww thanks!

DD reckons the guy probably has a MILF fetish. Nah, I think he was just nice and a bit desperate for conversation, as I was the only customer. It did make me laugh though, as I drove away. It’s not what you expect a 25-year-old Northern Beaches lad to say when you’re 52 and accustomed to being a bit invisible.

I suppose it’s hard to be a bit invisible in orange paisley.

And so another week begins. Hope it’s a good one for you.

Song of the day: Billy Joel “Just the way you are”

 

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