Obviously Oblivious

When I got home from getting my haircut last week, our kids were in a state of chaos. They all rushed to the door as if I had been gone for 2 days instead of 2 hours. Landen needed batteries for his Thomas book, Nathan had wet his pants and was hobbling down the stairs like an old bowlegged cowboy, and Teresa was close behind just sure she had to be held by mom NOW.
Where was their dad? Sitting at the table talking about what trees to plant with the lady from the conservation office. As I came through the kitchen to take care of everyone's problems, he was completely oblivious to what was going on--and continuted to be until their meeting was over.
It also gets me how he can be deep in thought at the dinner table and not hear the boys' continuous requests for milk or more "cheesy googles." I never know if he is trying to develop their patience or doesn't hear them. Usually it is the latter.
Do I ever get to be deep in thought? Um . . . no. In the past 3 paragraphs, I had David talking to me for the first one and as soon as he left to feed cows, Landen moved in to talk to me about his toy. I don't think anything has gotten my full attention for probably 5 years now.
To be fair, I'm sure David would call me oblivious to the things he pays great attention to--like the tracks in our yard, for instance. As we returned from an afternoon away on Saturday, we had to sit in the driveway until all tracks in and out of our snowy yard were accounted for.
This reminded me of a story that is worthy of repeating. One summer day when Nathan was just a baby, I was heading out to get the mail when I saw a garter snake in the grass. So, I did what I had to do and got in the van to drive to the end of the driveway and back instead. (I repeat--this was in the summer--no snow--just gravel.) David came home awhile later and asked, "Did you drive to the mailbox and back?" Who pays that much attention to tracks--and in gravel no less? I suppose some day when our house is broken into and David is able to track down the guilty party I will be thankful for this skill!
I suppose that's one reason why our marriage works. We can both take turns being obviously oblivious.